


Sunnyforks, Washington

by aheshke



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bella Is A Slayer, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Experimental Style, F/F, Fix-It, Nonbinary Character, Recreational Drug Use, Swearing, YES there are werewolves and NO this is not an omegaverse fic yah weirdos, but i have plans, chapters added as i write them, i am deviating HEAVILY from the canon, i can't make promises about what other things from buffy i'll add to this, if you like edward cullen then this fic is not for you, no betas we die like royce king ii, queer romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheshke/pseuds/aheshke
Summary: Let's start with a familiar beginning: A depressed, lonely girl is deposited without ceremony by her guardians into the arms of a man who's more stranger than father and who lives in the quiet town of Forks, Washington.However, note the first of many crucial differences between this story and the one you may think you know: Instead of a cactus cradled in her arms, she holds a wooden stake.
Relationships: Bella Swan & Charlie Swan, Bella Swan & Edward Cullen, Bella Swan & Jacob Black, Bella Swan/Leah Clearwater
Comments: 57
Kudos: 130





	1. Welcome to Forks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Myth979](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myth979/gifts).



> Special thanks to Myth979 for her input and research for various Buffy and Twilight details. This fic wouldn't exist without her help.

"I still don't understand why I can't stay in Scotland with you," Bella tells Giles before they get out of the rental. She doesn't want to sound whiny, but she certainly feels very whiny. She's also jetlagged by an international flight and having to travel at non-Slayer working hours to meet her father while he's still awake.

The man next to her (on the wrong side of the car if they were in the place she really wants to be), sighs, removing his glasses to rub at his eyes.

“I already explained, Bella, you still have family here and it's not appropriate for the Watchers to keep you away from them for so long. Even after the debacle with your mother—"

"Let's not talk about my mom," she says tightly, crossing her arms.

"Right." He looks older than she remembers, his mouth turned down, sad and wistful. He's the only father figure she's ever really known. "You're not six years old any longer. So many girls have been sent to the school, so many who need guidance and support because they have none from their own families. But I have reason to believe Charlie Swan will be a good Watcher. Even if you don't remember him, I know your father misses you. Give it a year, and when you're eighteen, you can decide for yourself to return or not."

Hating how small her voice sounds, she asks, "But why can't you be my Watcher?"

Giles places a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Because it wouldn't be right. As head of the Watchers, I can no longer provide you with the mentorship and care that you need."

"And a man who hasn't seen me since I was six years old can?"

"Bella," Giles starts, but she has already stepped out of the passenger seat and slammed the door behind her.

Her father looks older than she remembers, even with his intermittent emails to her school account tracking the increasing gray in his hair and crow's feet around his eyes. Charlie has a bushy mustache, as if to better fit into the stereotype of a small-time cop. His eyes light up when he sees her.

"Bells!" he calls, stepping forward with his arms outstretched, as if to sweep her into a hug, but drops them after a moment when she makes no move towards him.

"Hello, Charlie," she says, unsmiling. He furrows his brow and she can't bring herself to feel guilty about it.

"Mr. Swan, so good to meet you at last," says Giles, extending a handshake to her father.

"Mr. Giles." A look Bella doesn't quite catch passes between them. "Thank you for making sure my daughter arrived safely."

"Ah, it's Giles, please." There's an awkward pause, as if both men are giving Bella a chance to speak, but she stubbornly remains silent. She catches Charlie eyeing the stake strapped at her hip and places a protective hand over it.

"Mr. Swan," Giles says, gently nudging Bella forward with an arm. "I take it you got the Handbook for Watchers in the post? I also sent a copy to your email."

Charlie looks like a fish out of water, flailing for what he understands. Bella has a bad feeling about this. "Uh, right, for her continued curriculum from the boarding school, right?"

"Yes. As her new Watcher, be sure to read it carefully. Bella can answer any questions you might have. Isn't that right, Bella?"

He nudges her shoulder again until she looks at Charlie and makes a small sound that's as close to agreement as she'll allow. Her father may be the last person she wants on Earth as her Watcher, except for maybe Renee, but she supposes it's in both of their interests to keep her alive while she's under his watch for the next year. Given her low expectations for both of her biological parents, she doubts he actually read the Handbook before his supernatural daughter was deposited back under his guardianship for the first time since infancy.

"Well, I suppose I should leave you two to get reacquainted since I have a flight to catch back to Heathrow. Take good care of your daughter, Mr. Swan." Giles takes one last assessing look at Bella. "Be nice to your father, Bella."

Bella doesn't say what she wants to say, like, _I'll try if he does_ , or _Please don’t leave me here_ , but on impulse, clutches him in an awkward side hug before shoving herself and her stinging tears away.

Another silence falls. Giles clears his throat. "Well, take care of yourselves, Charlie and Bella."

She hears the car door slam, the engine rumble as he drives away, but refuses to watch him go. She shrugs off the hand that attempts to rest on her shoulder.

Charlie hesitates before speaking, as if finally realizing that intermittent emails do not a good father-daughter relationship make.

"Bella," he says tentatively, as if coaxing an animal, "Let's go home."

Bella's real home is a sprawling complex of brick and gothic architecture in rural Scotland. She follows him to his police car (the wrong colors, the wrong make), fingertips drifting to check that her stake is still in its harness, like a protective talisman.

* * *

Jacob and Billy Black are waiting on the front porch of the Swan House when Charlie pulls into the driveway. He doesn't know if Bella still remembers them from her visits eleven years ago (and then some), but he figured some familiar faces would help her readjust to the States. She's a quiet, surly stranger beside him, not unusual behavior for a teenager on the cusp of young adulthood, but he's seen enough as a cop to know it's not all teenaged angst. Something about her stubborn silence and the way she protectively touches the wooden stake at her hip makes the hair on the back of his neck prickle.

 _"She's a Slayer, chosen to fight against beings of the dark, and you must look after her as her Watcher if you want her custody released from the school,"_ Giles had said over the phone after they decided to move Bella back to Forks _. "This world is filled with many dangers and although she's nearly completed her training, she will need your help on her path."_

Before Giles, Charlie had never even heard of Watchers and Slayers. Renee never would have passed on the full truth, anyway. Charlie had figured it was some sort of strange European boarding school extracurricular (a lot of them have weird religious stuff, right?) and thanks to pulling a lot of overtime lately, he’d put off doing much more than flipping through the intro of the manual still lying on his breakfast nook. He regrets reading so little, now that Bella is here and pretending to ignore his existence as best as she can. 

It took three years of one-sided birthday calls and intermittent emails before she started talking to him again when she turned thirteen. He can be patient and work at this again. They have a year this time, but he's determined to try.

Jacob and Billy move to greet Bella when she gets out of the car, but a stern look from Charlie makes them pause a careful distance away.

Charlie nods at the Black family. "I don't know if you remember at all, but you used to play with Jacob when you two were little. And his dad, Billy, who plans our fishing trips more than is probably necessary for either of us."

Bella gives them a little wave, but maintains her neutral expression of indifference. "I don't remember much from back then, sorry." Even her accent sounds new and strange, the soft, southern Arizona twang slurring into something like a Scottish brogue with a touch of something that suggests Giles had more of an influence on her upbringing than he’d thought. She's been away from him for far too long. Not for the first time, Charlie wishes he had fought Renee for more custody rights when Bella was younger.

Jacob, ever the friendly kid that he is, bless him, smiles and sticks out a hand and says, "Hey Bella, you probably don't remember me, but we used to play together on the beach over at the rez. You're welcome to visit any time."

Bella shakes his hand, Charlie notes, the ghost of a smile flickering on his daughter's face before it disappears like an extinguished candle.

_Better than nothing._

"That would be the Quileute Tribe's reservation, yes?" Even with her strange accent, she pronounces the word perfectly.

Jacob beams at her toothily. "The very same! A lot of us go to the school there now and I'm sure they'd love to meet Charlie's daughter." Bella looks unsure at the invitation, her shoulders hunching up towards her ears. Even if she refuses to verbally speak to Charlie, at least her body language is more expressive. Jacob notices it, too. "No pressure. Just think about it, yeah?" He pats her on the shoulder and steps back towards Billy, who has been staring at the stake at Bella's hip with a peculiar expression on his face, which disappears when Charlie meets his gaze over the heads of their children.

He'll have to ask Billy about that on their next fishing trip together, Charlie decides. His oldest friend is welcome to keep his many secrets as long as they're none of Charlie's business, but Bella is very much his business, thanks.

"We'd better get back to the shop, Jacob," Billy says. "Charlie, bring Bella by some time to look at our stock before school begins, alright?"

Right. Bella will hardly want Charlie shuttling her back and forth in a cop car. If she takes after her father at seventeen in any way, she'll also be wanting some independence.

"You know how to drive, right?" Charlie asks her. She stares at him as if she can't believe he's even asking the question.

"Yes. I learned automatic at twelve and stick at fourteen."

The universe is rather generous in giving pregnant pauses today.

 _What in the hell was she learning at that boarding school?_ Charlie thinks. He _really_ needs to dive into that manual tonight.

"Uh. Okay then. We'll sort out your American license at the DMV and then get you some new wheels at Billy's."

"See you around, Bella," Jacob calls, sauntering off after his father.

"Bye," Bella says quietly. She picks up her heaviest bit of luggage before Charlie can beat her to it, leaving him to awkwardly roll her much smaller bags into the front hallway behind her. The school had already sent boxes of her belongings ahead of her return and for lack of better ideas for what to do with them, Charlie had stacked them in Bella's bedroom. He'd dithered over whether or not to pick out new bedding and furniture to update it from the rather dated 90s vibe it still had from when she was small, but figured Bella would want some input in the design. She grimaces at the frilly pink bedding and Lisa Frank decor anyway.

"I won't make you sleep in the same room you had when you were six. I was hoping we could shop for new stuff together. Well, as soon as you sleep off your jetlag." He rubs his neck, wondering if not replacing the room earlier was a mistake.

Bella runs a hand along the childhood drawings marking a white dresser and examines her fingers. "No need to wait. I want to fix it tonight."

"Oh. So soon. Are you sure you don't want to rest first?"

The stare she fixes him almost seems exasperated somehow, and he doesn’t know _why_.

“Tonight is just fine, Charlie,” she tells him. “And I can go this weekend to see Mr. Black’s cars and get my new license. I can handle myself; I’m more worried about you.”

Charlie would be taken more aback at his teenage daughter addressing him as a mutual adult if his mind hadn’t caught on the last part of her words. “ _Worried_ about me? Bella, I’ve been taking care of myself for almost six decades.”

She’s turned away from him, methodically unpacking the backpack she deposited on her bed, which look like an absurd number of hardback books for a bag of that size, sheaves of faded papers, random glass jars, a small crucifix (confirming his _weird religious boarding school_ suspicions) and other items he can’t quite identify.

“If you want me to not worry, then I want some small favors of you and ask that you follow them to the letter,” she tells him, holding out the crucifix to him by its chain. “First of all, wear this at all times. Also, you’ll need this,” and she tugs something that looks like a pale-colored mace can out of the pile on her bed.

He can’t help it—he laughs at her, leaning helplessly against the doorway. “Bella, I’m on the force. I have firearms and know how to use all of them. I can even show you how down at the range sometime if you want to be sure.”

“Not everything can be fought with guns, Charlie. Keep the mace and the necklace on you at all times,” she just says, staring at him until he takes the strange gifts and tucks them into his uniform. “You didn’t read what Giles sent you, did you?” Her words aren’t accusatory so much as resigned.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her.

She sighs, rubbing a hand across her forehead. “Never mind. I’m not sure why I should have hoped for you even bothering, anyway. Just read everything he gave you as soon as possible. I’m gonna unpack. Give me an hour and then I’ll be ready to go.”

The door practically slams in his face, leaving Charlie in the hallway with other unspoken apologies and questions on his tongue.

* * *

Bella drives to her first day of classes at Forks High School ( _Home of the Spartans!_ proclaims a digital sign on the front lawn) in what Billy Black told her is a 1963 Chevy Stepside C-10 pickup. Bella doesn’t care much for the specifics of the car, but she likes that the truck bed is roomy and that it’s old and grungy and nondescript, aside from its atrocious orange-red color. Practically anything is better than using a cop car. She’ll have to ask Jacob about getting the truck painted to something less noticeable before she uses it on her hunts.

(At an hour only marginally later in the morning than the usual start for the boarding school, Charlie had made them eggs, pancakes, and extra-strong coffee to celebrate her first day, another one of his many attempts at apologizing since she called him out on completely ignoring his Watcher responsibilities. They’d been at their most awkward when shopping to replace Bella’s childhood room, swapping out all the pink paint and white pressboard and glitter for earth tones and oak. They’d barely spoken the entire time, Charlie lingering behind Bella as she hauled what she wanted into multiple shopping carts, his primary role in handing over his credit card at checkout. Bella has a decent stipend from the Watchers in her bank account, now transferred to a local branch, but figured he might as well pay more of that child support eleven years late.

“Listen, Bella,” he’d said, leaning over the driver’s side window as the engine groaned to life. “I know I haven’t been the best dad, but I’m hoping to be better about that this year. And if you’re willing to listen to any fatherly advice from me today, I just want you to try to enjoy your year at Folks High School. The kids here are good stock, just not from a posh Scottish school. Try not to push them away, alright?” He’d made a face, as if realizing the implications of what he’d said, and added, “Try not to be like your old man, okay?” The gold shine of the crucifix glittered around his neck, she’d noticed. She’d nodded.)

The problem is, Bella has never been any good at making friends. Giles is probably the closest thing to a friend she has. While she’s been acquainted with many Slayers and Watchers, she’s not used to being around regular humans, especially not at regular daylight hours and with regular, non-Slayer teenaged problems.

Bella blends into the river of students entering the school as best as she can, but can feel the curious glances on her as she looks for her homeroom. Having to clutch and constantly refer to a class schedule and school map probably isn’t helping.

“Hey, new girl!” someone calls from behind her. She turns and sees a short brunette with catlike blue eyes waving at her. The girl is sharply pretty, wearing a pale pink blouse and skirt combo that worryingly brings to mind _Mean Girls_. “First day at Forks, huh? Need help getting around?”

Bella nods mutely. The girl snags her schedule from her hands and frowns at it.

“Oh, homeroom with Mrs. George. She’s no fun, but she’ll let you get away with at least a couple of tardies a semester. Let me walk you there, okay? It’s Bella, right? I’m Jess, by the way. Jessica Stanley.” Not even giving Bella a moment to refuse, she loops an arm around Bella and escorts her through the maze of students and hallways, chattering all the while about teachers and various “Jess Tips for Forks High School” until she deposits her in front of a classroom. It strikes Bella that Jess is just the sort of person Giles and Charlie would be nudging her to befriend.

Another problem: Bella doesn’t even know where to begin with making friends, even with naturally friendly people who volunteer themselves to escort new girls to their homerooms.

“Um, thank you,” she tells Jess, taking back her schedule.

“Any time!” Jess smiles brightly. “First days are hard. Find me at lunch, okay? You’ve gotta tell me all about yourself and how you ended up in Forks of all places with an accent like _that.”_

Bella nods again and Jess rambles something about being late for her homeroom, leaving Bella to meet Mrs. George and the first of many new classmates.

* * *

The morning passes more or less uneventfully for Bella, with the exception of having to go through the “new kid” song-and-dance in all of her classes and many curious stares. Her teachers seem nice, if _very_ American, and behind where Bella left off in the Slayer curriculum if their syllabi are anything to judge by. (You can get quite ahead of public school systems when not given holiday breaks and if provided with plenty of hands-on tutoring by some of the world’s finest.)

On the other hand, Bella isn’t quite sure what to make of her classmates. Some of the bolder ones try to whisper questions to her where she sits in the back row of the classroom and tries not to make eye contact with anyone. She ignores them.

In the breaks between classes, the chatter of the other students sounds like a foreign language. They flash smartphones and take selfies and talk about this or that social media platform or video games or other media Bella is only vaguely aware of. At least around other Slayers, she understood the jargon.

She doesn’t want to admit how relieved she is to see Jess saving a seat for her at a table by the time she grabs a tray of food and locates her in the lunchtime chaos. Jess isn’t alone, Bella notes. Three other students sit with Jess as well, chatting with the distinct air of familiarity, of long-term and comfortable friendship. Bella’s nails dig into the cheap plastic of her tray.

“Hey, Bella!” Jess calls as soon as she sees her, waving her down again and patting the seat beside her. “Surviving your first day?”

Bella shrugs as she sits. The other students are staring, so she avoids their eyes by looking at her food (a taco salad, the healthiest thing she could find on the menu). 

Jess giggles and playfully nudges her shoulder. “Not very talkative, are you? That’s okay. I’ll get you to talk eventually! I always do. Lemme introduce you to the rest, okay? That’s Angie Weber,” she says, pointing to a dark-haired student with white, plastic-framed glasses and a multicolored pin on their pullover that reads, “They/Them”. “They’re also not very talkative so I guess you’ll get along very well. And then there’s Eric Yorkie, who talks enough to make up for both of you.”

Eric, who has a hairstyle that really went out of style about five years ago, makes a face. “Hey! Speak for yourself, Jess.” He grins broadly at Bella extends a hand. “Nice to meetcha. We’re all seniors with impending college doom and senioritis so even if you don’t say much, we all have that going for us.”

The last student at the table doesn’t wait for Jess, introducing himself as Mike Newton, who apparently already shares AP Literature with Bella but she didn’t even notice. He reminds her a bit of the high school boys in Hollywood movies Giles would let her watch sometimes, all boyish naivety in his eyes and a haircut like a Scottish footballer.

They seem nice enough, Bella decides, if a bit innocent in the way humans unaware of the world of Slayers always seem to be. She eats while they chatter at each other (well, not Angie as much, but they say a word or two here and there). After she sets down her plastic utensils, Jess takes that as a sign to flood her with questions.

“So, Bella, what’s with the accent?” she asks, adjusting her headband.

“ _Rude_ ,” Angie mutters in reproach.

Jess pouts, sticking out her lower lip childishly. “What? It’s what we’re all wondering about—even you’ve gotta admit it’s unusual.”

Well, if this friendship thing doesn’t work out, at least she can tell Giles and Charlie she _tried_. “I was born here, but lived in Arizona until I was six, then recently moved here from a boarding school in Scotland.”

Eric whistles low. “Wow, your parents are _fancy._ A Scottish boarding school, huh? Like Harry Potter?”

Thanks to well-supplied libraries, Bella is not completely ignorant of all pop culture and media, even though she’s never had much time to read books for fun. “A bit like Harry Potter, I suppose.” Perhaps more like Harry Potter than she wants to let on to outsiders, however. “But it was a full scholarship.” That’s what she’s been told to say, at least. Not, _All expenses were covered by an Illuminati-like shadow society dedicated to ridding the world of evil by training little girls to fight them._

Even Angie raises their eyebrows at that. “I call dibs on you as my study buddy,” they say quietly, a little smile on their face.

“No fair!” Mike protests. “Either we’re all in a study group together or not at all, Angie. Just ‘cause you have your heart set on Stanford doesn’t mean you get to snag her all to yourself.”

Angie sticks their tongue out at him and Bella bites her lip before she does something stupid, like smile.

The cheerful atmosphere shatters when something in Bella’s peripheral vision makes her freeze on an instinct honed by more than a decade of supernatural training. She shifts in her seat, the hair on the back of her neck standing up as she looks over at what’s (or rather who) is entering the cafeteria.

A clique of five teenagers (three boys and two girls) is casually strolling into the cafeteria with trays in hand, not looking at anyone else but making their way over to an empty table that obviously no other students have dared to take, even this late in the lunch hour. It’s not their freakish paleness or movie star good looks that are bothering Bella, though. One might say pretty-faced white people are endemic among vampires, after all.

No, it’s that every gut instinct and minute of training she’s ever had is _screaming_ at her that something is _awfully, terribly,_ _horribly_ wrong about them, as wrong as if a pack of tigers had padded in. Or maybe something more monstrous than that. She clutches at her stake (secured in a hidden jacket pocket so as to not draw prying questions), then forces herself to let go, finger by finger, when the strange teenagers merely sit down and ignore everyone else. Plus, the others are watching her, open amusement on their faces.

“Who are they?” Bella asks, clutching her thighs instead.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” Jess laughs, a knowing tone to her words. “Those are the Cullen siblings. Don’t bother trying to flirt with them. It’s useless to try and I know that from _experience_ , ‘kay? They’re the adopted genius children of a local doctor or something and they all keep to themselves. Better to leave ‘em alone.”

“Oh.”

The conversation at their table returns to college applications and coursework and what the others plan to do that weekend and Bella slowly relaxes, bit by bit, even though she still feels uneasy with the Cullens so nearby. Something is _off_ about them; she just knows it.

 _Never go off and investigate strange things on your own_ , she hears her Slayer instructors scolding her. _Always, always, ALWAYS tell your Watcher_.

But now that Charlie is her Watcher, Bella isn’t sure how useful he’ll be with listening to her concerns, let alone take them seriously. She’s not convinced he’s even bought into the whole “a supernatural world has existed under your nose the entire time” thing yet.

“Watch my things?” she asks Angie, grabbing her phone and finding as secluded of a corner as she can within the school and outside of the cafeteria.

It’s time to call Giles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Special thanks on this chapter to Myth979 and deijis for their feedback.  
> \- I am a few chapters ahead in outlining this and kind of have the gist of where I want to go, but full disclosure that I'm kinda outlining the plot by the seat of my pants.  
> \- Yes, Angela is nonbinary in this AU.  
> \- If you're interested in what music I've been using to write this fic, [I have a handy-dandy Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6ZponzmII7LYTOOZLHwtYg?si=045EnPyLRiCrSNhT4rRBtw) that you're welcome to give a listen.  
> \- Official Sunnyforks uquiz: <https://uquiz.com/nCzmAF>


	2. The Cullens

It’s evening in the United Kingdom when Bella makes the call, but Giles answers immediately.

“Bella? What’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

Bella huffs, sliding down the painted concrete of the wall until she’s sitting on the dirty floor. “I _am_ in school, Giles. That’s why I had to call you.”

There’s silence on the other end, as if Giles is carefully considering what he says next. “Bella, don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet on the _first day_. It’s good for you to be around normal students, not cooped up in an isolated fortress. Please try a little for your father and I, won’t you?”

“Giles,” she says impatiently. “Some of the students _aren’t_ normal. I saw them in the lunchroom today and I just _know_ something is wrong about them, okay. If they’re not connected to the supernatural in some way, then I’ll eat my own stake. But instead of haring off and investigating on my own, I’m doing the mature, responsible thing by telling you all about it.”

“And not Charlie?” Bella swears she can hear a smile in his voice and she sets her jaw stubbornly.

“He hasn’t even finished the Handbook, Giles. How is he supposed to know what to do?”

“He’s hardly going to learn if you tell him nothing.”

Bella hates that he’s right, so she changes the subject. “Focus, Giles. Weird students at my school. Potentially supernatural. Very pale and unnaturally beautiful. What do I do?”

He sighs. “Look, it isn’t unusual for a Slayer who is newly out of the school to think they see vampires and monsters everywhere. I know you want to prove yourself, but there’s no need to rush into unnecessary trouble. Haven’t you considered that maybe their strangeness is due to being around American students again and perhaps their unusual pallidity is due to living year-round in one of the most overcast environments in North America?”

“Maybe,” Bella allows, “But I still think there’s something off about them and it’s bothering me, okay? I don’t know why, but it feels like a sort of gut instinct.”

“Bella, promise me you won’t do anything drastic on the basis of a simple gut instinct.”

“I promise,” Bella says, like a liar. She can almost imagine him pacing his office, perusing the titles on his library shelves as he talks to her, a forgotten cup of tea cooling on his desk. She misses him, she realizes with a pang.

“And promise me you’ll tell your father. You _must_ tell him whenever you notice something strange or something is bothering you, alright? I don’t want you to put yourself in an unsafe position and leave your Watcher completely in the dark.” Giles sounds so fiercely insistent that Bella has to wonder at the things he’s seen in his time as both Watcher and the leader of their tiny, isolated community.

“I’ll tell him,” she promises, even as her stomach clenches at the thought. If Giles believes the Cullens aren’t worth their time, then she doubts Charlie will feel any differently. In fact, he’ll probably laugh at her again, like when she gave him anti-vampire gear.

Whatever.

Bella squares her shoulders and resolves to not let the Cullens get under her skin.

* * *

 _Never say the universe doesn’t have a dark sense of humor_ , Bella thinks when Mr. Morales, her AP Biology teacher, assigns Edward Cullen as her lab partner almost as soon as she walks into class.

She warily takes a seat at his bench, setting her backpack on the floor and pointedly avoiding eye contact. _At least Charlie and Giles can’t accuse me of trying to sit with one of them on purpose._ Running a hand over the pocket with the stake, she chews on a lip thoughtfully. On one hand, if he’s a regular-if-pasty human boy, a lab partnership is ideal for confirming there’s nothing wrong and it’s truly just new school jitters. On the other hand, if he is some sort of supernatural danger to the other students (as her gut instinct continues to yell at her), attacking one’s lab partner is probably not going to help her be on friendly terms with the locals. Bella sneaks a look at him from under her lashes.

He’s scooched away from her on his chair, to the point that she wonders if it even qualifies as sitting anymore, and he’s turned his head away, ostensibly reading the textbook in front of him.

_Hmm._

Perhaps the feelings of “Nope at First Sight” are mutual. Not like she really needs to talk to him to pass a high school-level biology class, anyway.

Bella tunes back into Mr. Morales’s lecture on cell biology and half-heartedly takes notes while Edward Cullen appears to spend the class doing his best impression of an incredibly uncomfortable-looking statue.

* * *

When Bella returns home from school, she’s in a strangely frenzied mood, which is probably better than her pretending to have no personality around Charlie at all. He doesn’t even manage to get in more than a _“How was school?”_ and a _“Fine, thanks,”_ before she squirrels away inside her room.

She stomps back out after a half-hour with a hand-written list in blocky font that she slaps on the fridge with one of his ceramic vegetable magnets. Charlie sips his coffee as he reads it over her shoulder (night shifts always require a strong and steady influx of caffeine):

  1. _“Do NOT invite people in._
  2. _Do NOT give your full name to anyone at any time._
  3. _Do NOT go with anyone to a secondary location._
  4. _ALWAYS wear your crucifix._
  5. _ALWAYS carry your mace._
  6. _SHARP pencils will do as stakes in a pinch._
  7. _SUNLIGHT is safest.”_



Not for the first time, he wonders what exactly they were teaching her in Scotland. (Based on the Handbook and her mannerisms, he’s starting to suspect it was more than weird religious stuff.) Idly, he wonders if he may need another cup before his shift starts. She’s staring expectantly at him, arms akimbo.

“Um, wow, kiddo,” he says. “That’s quite some list. Any particular reason why you felt motivated to share that with me today?”

Her mouth thins into a line and for a moment, she looks remarkably like his ex-wife right before she was about to open her mouth to yell at him, and then the moment passes when her shoulders sag. “These are the ground rules for us, okay? Watcher and Slayer, we both follow them. You _must_ follow them, okay? Even if they feel silly.”

Bella’s eyes are as wide and serious as he’s ever seen them.

“Okay, okay, Bells. Consider them memorized.” _Especially if they make you feel better_ , he thinks. “Now will you tell me what actually happened at school today?”

Charlie starts making pasta while she makes herself comfortable at the table, the story spilling out in bits and pieces. She’s already made friends and he wisely refrains from congratulating her, even though that’s the best news he’s heard all day. Then she haltingly describes the Cullens and her gut instinct that something is wrong, then calling Giles and being assigned as Edward Cullen’s lab partner. He pauses in the middle of dicing onions.

“The Cullens?” he asks, bewildered.

“You know of them?” There’s a feral edge to the eager way she asks him.

Charlie blinks, finishing his dicing and tossing the onions into a well-buttered pan. “Well, of course. Everyone knows of the Cullens. Dr. Carlisle Cullen’s seen almost everyone who’s passed through the local hospital. Their kids are recluses, but we’ve never had any trouble from them here in Forks.”

She hums. “Well, I suppose that fits Giles’ hypothesis. But still, Slayer gut tells me something about them is weird, and I’m gonna find out _what_.” She swirls away again.

“Dinner’s in thirty!” he calls after her, not sure how else to respond. Well, as long as she’s not breaking any rules, he supposes it’s harmless for her to have a little research project on her hands. Hopefully, her friends will drag her out of the house before she becomes as reclusive as her research subjects.

* * *

Charlie gets off his shift early that night, arriving home shortly before a quarter to three and almost tumbles over Bella doing pushups in the living room.

“Bella, what the hell?” That’s when he notices the various bits of portable exercise equipment that he’s never seen before littering the carpet: tension bands, an expensive-looking set of weights, a spring-loaded pull-up bar, a jump rope, and of course, the yoga mat Bella currently occupies. “What the hell are you doing awake right now? You have school in five hours.”

“I know what time it is, thanks,” she growls, “but I have to finish my P.E. routine.” He’s still frowning at her, so she quickly amends with, “P.E. for Slayers, that is.”

 _What kind of P.E. routine makes a kid stay up until 3 A.M.?_ Charlie has some _serious_ questions for Giles the next time they talk.

“Look, I’m sure they’ll understand if you put off the rest of your routine until after getting some rest, okay?”

That was the wrong thing to say: Bella _glares_ at him, her face flushing from more than just exercise.

“You _still_ don’t understand,” she hisses. “I _have_ to train, and that means finishing what I started.” She gathers up the mat and as much of the exercise equipment she can carry, then stalks off to her room for the third time in the past twelve hours.

Charlie stays up the rest of the night to read the Handbook.

* * *

Edward Cullen doesn’t return to Bella’s biology class for the rest of the week, so instead of trying to pick his brain for more clues, Bella does her best to settle into something of a routine with her coursework and meeting her new friends for lunch (friends solely by an extrovert adopting her into her friend group but still, _friends!_ ).

It’s rapidly apparent that:

  * She is well ahead of peers in her coursework, but even with her guidance counselor switching as many of her classes to the AP and Honors levels, she still feels like a lot of it is review, though she tries to hide it for Mike’s and Angie’s sakes.
  * While she’s a Certified Nerd in the eyes of anyone who cares to think so in Forks, her more leisurely knowledge base is very stunted, at least compared with her peers. (Bella doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the way their jaws dropped when she asked what _Vine_ and _Snapchat_ were during one very memorable lunch.)



Jess and Eric are particularly horrified by her lack of American cultural experiences and resolve to take her out for an entire Saturday of what they term, “Millennial Culture Immersion” in the Seattle area.

Bella hems and haws over the potential schoolwork until even Angie points out that they don’t really have any schoolwork to do this weekend, truly, _so would you kindly agree to the trip so I’m not the only introvert surrounded by high-maintenance extroverts, please, Bella?_

Of course, Charlie is no help for an easy out because as soon as she mentions being invited to hang out with friends in Seattle for most of a Saturday, he slides her four fifties from his wallet and tells her, “Have fun.” He looks so pleased about it, too.

By Friday afternoon, she’s been added to the Jess et. al. group chat, armed with a bouquet of colorful social media apps on her phone, and out of any excuses for avoiding a social outing. She finally agrees, much to Jess’s glee. 

After another early start and copious amounts of coffee and energy drinks, they start with the Wild Waves Theme and Water Park (“C’mon, before it closes for the year, Bella!”). Bella has never been on any rollercoasters, but has never been known to back down from a challenge, no matter how stupid it sounds to strap herself into a machine for the express purpose of spinning her through some loops and soaking her to the skin. As it turns out, amusement park rides are incredibly fun, somewhere on the scale between wrestling trolls and taking apart killer bots. Eventually, Bella is the only one still lining up for repeat rides while the rest slouch on beach chairs with snow cones.

The rest of the day involves less of an adrenaline rush but is still very educational. They go to a classic American shopping mall, spending hours browsing what feels like dozens of shops (Jess is rarely satisfied with the fit or color of one thing or another that she’s looking for, something that Bella can somewhat understand, given her distaste for the uber-feminine things Renee always sends her on her birthdays and holidays).

Somehow Eric convinces all of them to visit a costume shop and that’s how he manages to cajole Bella into a stereotypical vampire dress (never mind that vampires don’t really dress like that anymore, nor does she ever like wearing dresses). The picture of poker-faced Bella, dressed in a plasticy red-and-black ensemble, makes it onto his Snapchat story. Jess, dressed up a green and purple witch ensemble, laughingly waves a star-tipped wand at her and says, “Bibbity-bobbity-boo, that just don’t look right on you!” Angie and Eric simultaneously walk out of their changing rooms in the same superhero costume and goggle at each other. Bella has no idea _which_ superhero, but it’s still pretty funny.

The day ends with Chinese takeout (not the healthiest meal she could choose to eat, but whatever) and then with some sort of action flick Mike and Angie wanted to watch. The fight scenes are almost hilariously awful, but a single glance at her friends convinces Bella to keep her mouth shut and say nothing, as their eyes are riveted on the screen in open delight.

Jess drops her off late, while Charlie is still at work. Bella texts him to say she got home safely and gratefully collapses into her pillows, then groans and rolls back out of bed to go through her exercises.

Before she falls asleep, she realizes she didn’t think of herself as a Slayer for almost the entire day. The thought is an unsettling one, but not entirely unwelcome.

* * *

Bella makes up for it on Sunday by diving fully into her research on the Cullens, internally thanking Charlie for investing in faster internet speeds than an old Scottish fortress-turned-school.

For the most part, her search turns up nothing useful, all perfectly normal internet traces of a perfectly normal (if reclusive) American family:

  * Carlisle has the same eerie paleness as his children and smiles gently at the camera, his golden hair cropped short and parted neatly like the unassuming, well-monied neighbor one might meet at a wine-and-cheese party. He has a well-updated LinkedIn, showing a timeline of work history stretching from medical school to the present, and a personal page for patients requesting appointments with him at the hospital. An attempted call via her encrypted phone line goes directly to a robotic voicemail box.
  * His wife, Esme Cullen, has both Pinterest and Facebook accounts and, thanks to help from Bella’s new friends, she knows how to snoop for useful information. The only problem is, Esme’s account is about as bland for a stereotypical American housewife as one could imagine, littered with linked recipes and sewing projects, bland birthday wishes to Facebook friends and loving-if-generic comments about her five children. She’s posted some photos of her family (playing baseball, in front of the hospital with Carlisle, gathered in front of a Christmas tree), but other than being unable to find any photos of them dated older than a few years, there’s nothing of note in them.
  * Emmett Cullen also has a Facebook, but there’s nothing on there except a few posts about Fantasy Football and basketball brackets.
  * Rosalie Hale is similarly mysterious, as her Facebook seems more like a placeholder with her school picture, though her linked Instagram account is filled with makeup artist-type selfies and filtered pictures of flowers and artisan coffee.
  * There’s nothing on Jasper Hale aside from what Esme posted about him.
  * Edward Cullen only uses his Facebook to post links to news and business articles from conservative or right-of-moderate news sources ( _ew_ ), but also regularly updates a Myspace with recorded audio files of what she assumes is him playing classical piano. Pretty music, but also pretty dull.
  * Alice Cullen is the biggest jackpot for social media stalking the Cullen family, which Bella only realizes after she finds Alice not only on Facebook and Instagram, but also dead Vine and LiveJournal accounts, LinkedIn, YouTube, LookBook, and TikTok. It will probably take weeks for Bella to really dig into Alice’s accounts, but a few hours of work tells her that Alice barely mentions her family at all, let alone features them in her content. As far as the internet is concerned, Alice Cullen is a fashion vlogger and part-time model who also likes to share internet memes.



Perhaps more than a single day of research will turn up more information, but by Sunday afternoon, Bella is forced to accept that nothing on their social media pages is truly out of the ordinary.

So, after getting ahead on a few school projects, she switches to her favorite pastime: Looking up local crime reports and listening in on live-streamed police scanners. Sunday crime and law enforcement always seem to be much of the same: car accidents, drunk and disorderly reports, domestic violence calls, noise ordinance violations, and other, pettier things that never necessitate the police, such as teenagers strolling down suburban roads after sunset.

What Bella actually listens for are reports of unexplained murders or disappearances. In Scotland, unusual deaths almost always had to do with the supernatural.

In a place like Forks, so rural and close to large bodies of water and populated by small-time folks with big-time firearms, the supernatural may not always be the first culprit, but old habits die hard.

Bella even digs back into crime reports from a little under a year ago, when Jess said the Cullens had first moved to the area, but it still turns up nothing out of the ordinary.

 _Supernatural sentients and creatures always leave a trace_ , she’d been taught. _Wherever they may wander and prowl, death, disappearances, and destruction follow, as well as unusual and unexplained events_. And while the Cullens may have left both physical and virtual traces of their lives, there is nothing unnatural about them in the slightest.

For the first time all week, the knotted feeling in Bella’s chest eases a little. Maybe Charlie and Giles are right; maybe there is truly nothing lurking in the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Charlie finally read the Handbook, huzzah!  
> \- A good portion of Bella's list can be credited to Myth979.  
> \- Yes, there will be mentions of social media and very likely text convos included in this fic as well.


	3. No License to Kill

Carlisle finally trusts Edward not to eat Bella Swan on sight after six days of hunting local fauna and aggressive piano practice at the Cullen Homestead. He couldn’t resist asking Alice what she could see of Miss Swan, the feelings of _mine_ swirling possessively whenever he thought of the girl, but Alice, being a mysterious pest as usual, merely smirked over the top of her phone and told him there was nothing to see.

Is there nothing more frustrating than wanting something so forbidden?

Rosalie snaps at him whenever she catches him pacing the floors with rude comments like: “God, Edward, you’re acting like you’re watching for a new Mitsuko Uchida CD to arrive in the mail. Go for a run or something, for fuck’s sake.”

Edward runs a lot these days.

The problem is, Bella is more than the allure of a new Uchida CD. Something about her is dangerously different from other humans, her blood singing the siren song of _drink and pour out a new covenant._ She’s the mouthwatering allure of a filet mignon cooked by a chef of a Michelin three-star restaurant, a chilled glass of water after hiking in the Sonoran Desert, a rosy apple waiting to be plucked from a tree so he can bite the sweet, crisp flesh.

Ever since she sat next to him in biology, he’s been dangerously close to violating the one rule all Cullens must _never_ break and it’s a terrifying, intoxicating, overwhelming desire.

Alice wisely suggests that he ask Mr. Morales to let him switch partners, or maybe even class sessions, because while his adoptive siblings could probably hold him back from biting her in public spaces, it’s anyone’s guess as to what could happen when they’re alone.

This in mind, he pulls his Volvo into the student parking lot of Forks High School on a cold, rainy Monday, fully intending to avoid Bella Swan as much as possible.

Well, at least, that was the original plan.

A metal blur with a screeching engine and skidding tires slides across his vision, heading directly towards a petite figure stepping out of an antique reddish-orange pickup truck. 

Edward doesn’t remember moving.

In less than a breath, he’s between the pickup and the van, slamming a fist so hard into the latter’s engine that it jolts back in such a way that Edward’s medical expertise tells him is probably bad for anyone behind the wheel. 

Never mind the driver.

 _Mine_ , he thinks, meeting the wide, doe-like eyes of Bella Swan.

* * *

Being hit by a van wouldn’t have been the most ideal start to Bella’s week, but she probably would have survived it better than non-Slayer humans, which is why it’s _just so delightful_ that Edward Cullen of all people jumped in and saved her. He drives her to the hospital in his Volvo, never speaking, even when she tries to thank him.

Poor Tyler Crowley had to be rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, rambling as he was strapped into the stretcher about losing control of his brakes and apologizing to Bella approximately two dozen times in under a minute.

Belatedly, she fishes out her miraculously unscathed phone and calls up Charlie, who’s probably already at work. (Honestly, the man really needs to learn to say no to pulling so many overnights and daily shifts in a week. Then again, Bella would be an enormous hypocrite to point out what that schedule is doing to his sleep hygiene.)

“Bells?”

“Hey Charlie, I’m on the way to the hospital at the moment.” There’s a clatter like he dropped his phone.

“Shit. Wait, Bella, what happened to you? Are you okay? Look, stay there, and I’ll meet you as soon as I can.”

She nips his alarm in the bud. “Nah, I feel fine, they just wanted to make sure A&E, sorry, that the E.R. checks me out. It was a minor car accident and the driver got way more banged up than me.”

Charlie sighs in relief. “Well, that’s good. I mean, not good that there was an accident, but uh, you know. You’re not driving yourself there, are you?”

Bella glances sideways at Edward, who looks as impassive as ever. She hasn’t figured out how to bring up the dark, hungry look she saw on his face as he punched an absurdly large dent in Tyler’s engine, but a small part of her is secretly smug at suspecting he was supernatural all along. The rest of her wants to hold him at stakepoint and shake him until the answers to her questions fall out like change from a piggybank.

“No, I’m not driving. A—” ( _Absurdly strong teenage boy? Acquaintance? Lab partner? Not friend, surely.)_ “Um, I mean, Edward Cullen is driving me at the moment.”

“ _Oh._ ” There’s a lot of unspoken commentary loaded into the monosyllable. “You still want me to meet you there?”

She really doesn’t, so she tells him so, promising to call him if the physical assessment shows anything he should know about.

Edward remains unnervingly silent in the waiting room and all the way through check-in with the triage nurse, too, leaning against the wall while Bella climbs on the examination chair and sends a few texts to the group chat, calming her friends down before they decide to follow her to the hospital, too.

They’re alone, but perhaps surprisingly, Bella can’t bring herself to feel worried. Maybe her mood is more mellowed after a surge of early Monday excitement and maybe it’s just logical assumptions. After all, it wouldn’t make much sense for Edward to save her from potentially fatal injuries only to attempt murder in a hospital room, right?

With a knock, the doctor who enters the room is none other than Carlisle Cullen.

_Oh, of course._

Edward’s behaviors suddenly make a lot more sense. She narrows her eyes at him, as if that will convince him to break his silence and explain himself.

“Bella Swan, yes?” Carlisle asks, that picture-perfect gentle smile sliding onto his face, smooth as butter. He has a transatlantic accent, like a star of old Hollywood films. “I hear you had quite the morning. Something to do with a motor vehicle accident?”

However, this might be an unexpected opportunity to get some more information out of them. She speaks as though she doesn’t know who he really is. “Yeah, that’s me. Tyler’s van didn’t even touch me and I feel just fine, but the nurse and my classmate Edward insisted.”

Carlisle looks at Edward then, a silent conversation passing between father and son as Bella watches.

He smiles at Bella, saying, “While I’m glad you feel unharmed, but I would recommend a physical exam after any car accident, on the off chance you were injured by something less obviously seen or felt. My son was right to take you here.”

“ _Your son?_ ” Bella asks, feigning ignorance. “You’re the brilliant Dr. Cullen everyone talks about in Forks?”

Carlisle chuckles. “I didn’t know I was spoken of so often, but yes, I am Dr. Cullen. And as both your doctor and Edward’s father, I’ll now need him to leave us alone for privacy’s sake.”

 _He’s still going to insist on a useless physical exam, isn’t he?_ Well, it’s not as if there’s anything on her skin that would particularly mark her as a Slayer, even to anyone aware of their existence.

The door shuts behind Edward none-too-gently. _Okay then._

Carlisle is as blessedly clinical with his touch as he’s professional with his speech, checking her muscles and bones and even performing a brief eye and ear check to make sure nothing’s wrong there, either. Aside from dirtied and rain-soaked clothing, Bella is fine, really. It takes far more than a push to the ground for a Slayer to need a hospital visit.

Bella hates small talk, but after the Watchers who taught her drilled it into her head as a useful interrogation technique, it’s not an option she can pass up out of social anxiety of all things. “So, how’d you get into medicine?”

He doesn’t look up, carefully testing the joints and bones of her ankles and feet over her layer of socks. “You’re interested in medicine?”

“It’s quite the career, isn’t it?”

Carlisle hums. “It took many years to get to where I am now and it was not without its sacrifices.” He sounds almost wistful.

“Oh, like what?” Asking about someone what they sacrificed for their career is a very rude question, but Bella has never particularly cared about being polite, even when she’s not trying to get information out of someone. Also, she’s a teenager. Rudeness is practically a rite of passage.

Finished with the exam, Carlisle steps away, his smile looking forced. He signs into the wheeled-in computer in the room and rapidly types. “It’s something I’d rather not discuss with a patient, thank you.”

_Damn._

He finishes his work and meets her eyes. “You’ll be happy to know that aside from a few bruises, you’re perfectly fine. Want me to call your father for you?”

Bella shrugs her jacket back on. “No need. I’ll text him.”

“I’ll have Edward drop you off at school.”

Awkward silences notwithstanding, Bella is hardly going to turn down the offer. Maybe if she stares at Edward’s head long enough, all of his secrets will pop out. On the way back, she ensures Charlie won’t march over to the hospital any time soon after wading through the river of new messages in the group chat.

As promised, he drops her off at the front office, but instead of pulling around to park, he drives away. _Guess he’s determined to be truant_. That settles the question of bugging him during bio that day.

She spends the rest of the day fielding questions about the accident and Tyler and pretends not to notice the other Cullen siblings sneaking looks at her during lunch.

* * *

Later that night, Bella receives a call from an unknown number, its ID disguised, even via the caller ID app she downloaded. She swipes to answer out of curiosity. 

“Bella? Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Renee’s voice is unmistakable.

It takes counting back from ten in French, but eventually, Bella grits out, “How did you get this number?”

Her mother’s voice is full of the same false cheer it had when they last talked on her sixteenth birthday. (It would be an understatement to say that call had ended badly.) “Oh, honey, the school gave it to me, of course! As your mother, I had to have a way to get in touch with you just in case, you know? Charlie said you were in the hospital this morning, something about a car accident?”

“It’s been handled and I’m fine,” Bella says flatly. No wonder Renee had anonymized her caller ID. Bella would have recognized it right away and refused to answer.

“Oh, but are you sure? Car accidents are super serious, you know, and the hospital report could raise your insurance rates, and you have no idea how worried sick I was after Charlie called. You couldn’t even send me a teensy little message letting me know what happened?”

“Charlie did that for me.” She feels a headache coming on, as she always does from talking to Renee. “Additional confirmation from me would be redundant. I need to go—I have homework.” (The latter is a lie, unless one interprets homework to be “do grueling physical training and snoop on police scanners”.)

Renee isn’t ready to free her from the increasingly tense conversation. “Charlie is my ex. I’m your _mother_.”

“You haven’t cared to be since I was six, Renee,” Bella says, hanging up.

* * *

The hospital discharges Tyler on Wednesday with a broken arm, black eye, and recovering concussion. To show there are no hard feelings, Bella visits him with Angie and offers to escort him to La Push to see if Billy can save his van.

He smiles in spite of his heavily swollen face.

They set up a weekend appointment with Billy, Bella driving Tyler and tow truck hauling the mangled van. Tyler repeatedly tries to apologize to her again, until Bella threatens to make him walk the rest of the way so she can drive and listen to the local rock station in peace, injuries or no.

(He shuts up.)

Jacob is all smiles at Bella and pulls a folding chair out for Tyler. Billy has rolled under the van, tinkering with who knows what, but it seems to involve a lot of swearing.

“Dr. Cullen said he’d pitch in on the cost of repairs, or a new car,” Bella tells Jacob before he can offer something stupid, like a discount because they’re friends. “His son is the one that ruined it, anyway, and it’s not Tyler’s fault the brakes crapped out.”

Billy rolls out on the creeper seat, frowning at Bella. “Even with the brakes shot, the engine is totaled. We might be able to find replacement parts for an auto this old on Craigslist or eBay, but it won’t be easy.” He heaves himself into his wheelchair. “I have to make some calls and then make a more thorough assessment. It’s gonna be a hot minute. Jacob, why don’t you and your friends head over to the beach? I’m sure Bella hasn’t had the chance to see it in a while.”

All three of them squeeze into Bella’s truck, Jacob scrunched in the middle as the smallest of the trio, chattering about his new classes and a comic book series Bella isn’t familiar with but Tyler is. He texts people in La Push who might be interested in joining them, typing almost as fast as he speaks.

“—and then whenever you visit again, we’ll have to Skype Rachel and Rebecca! I know they’ll remember you for sure.”

She vaguely remembers his older sisters as hazy figures in the background of her playdate memories with Jacob. They had never been close.

“Oh? Where are they now?”

He wrinkles his nose. “Rebecca met some surfer star from Hawaii about a year ago and moved there to be with him. Rachel’s studying at WSU to be a software engineer but still visits sometimes.”

Bella doesn’t know what it’s like to have siblings, let alone see them drift away, but the loneliness in his words is keenly familiar. In a way, Jacob’s the most like a brother to her. Losing all three of his sister figures over the years probably hadn’t been easy, especially after Sarah Black died.

“I’d like that,” she murmurs.

“Like what?” he asks, blinking at her.

“Talking to your sisters with you. That’d be nice.”

“Hell yes! I’ll ask ‘em then. We’ll have to figure out when they’re free, but I know they won’t say no if I say _pretty please_. Now, I know you don’t game, but hey, Tyler, you have a Steam, right?”

Tyler and Jacob get into a very involved discussion about some fantasy-sounding videogame while Bella focuses on navigating the unfamiliar roads and gets lost in old memories. The Pacific Ocean glimmers large and white on the horizon, eventually merging into the distinctive rock formations of Rialto Beach that even Bella couldn’t forget after eleven years. It’s a bit of a hike to the beach from the designated parking area in Olympic National Park, but not unpleasant through the shady forest trail Jacob picked and ocean scent in the air.

A group of teenagers splashing in the surf rush over when they catch sight of Jacob, dragging him into their circle of conversation. Most stare at Bella and Tyler with open curiosity, a few eye them warily.

After a minute or two, Jacob extricates himself and grabs Bella and Tyler’s arms to drag them into the group: “This is Charlie’s daughter, Bella. She’s just moved back from Scotland! And then this is our new friend Tyler, who almost ran her over but everything’s cool now. Dad’s fixing up his van so we can hang for a bit.”

Jacob’s friends are all of the Quileute tribe, two boys and two girls, varying in age from early to older teens. The boys are Embry Call and Seth Clearwater, both long-haired like Jacob with similar youthful energy, too. Seth seems particularly eager to pull Jacob into the surf with him. The girls, Emily Young and Leah Clearwater, are much closer to Bella’s age as well as calmer in temperament. Leah keeps sending Bella several considering glances as the group sits on the rocky shoreline and chats, which is more than a little unnerving to Bella because, well, Leah is _really, really hot_.

As in, “How did I ever think I was straight?” hot. As in, Bella’s brain is threatening to short-circuit at the thought of how soft Leah’s full lips would be on hers, how it would feel to put a hand on the delicate hip bone bared by her tankini. How nice it would be to brush her fingers against Leah’s neatly bobbed hair.

As in, _imminent gay panic_.

It’s not that Bella wants to be immune to the way attractive girls have affected her since approximately the age of twelve, but the Slayer community has always taught that such attachments are distracting to their work. Even worse, they could be exploited as a vulnerability.

Seth manages to pull Jacob and Emily into the water, with Embry and Tyler hollering and running after them, discarded shoes and jackets scattering on the shore. Bella watches them, pretending she doesn’t feel the eyes boring into her back, until she can’t take it any longer.

“What is it?” she snaps at Leah, crossing her arms.

“So,” says Leah, meeting her eyes. It’s even more uncomfortable with direct eye contact. “You’re the Slayer.”

The words crash into Bella like the waves against the rocks behind them. Her mind tries to calculate how Leah Clearwater, a girl she’s never seen before today, managed to figure out _that_ part of her identity so quickly and fails miserably.

“ _What_.”

Leah arches a manicured brow at her, stepping a little closer. _Gods, she’s tall._ Bella determinedly keeps her gaze above Leah’s shoulders. “You don’t need to hide it around me. I know you’re a Slayer and Charlie is your Watcher.”

“How did you know?”

She rolls her eyes at Bella. “It’s incredibly fucking obvious if you know what Slayers are and how they act. For example, you keep patting where I think you’ve hidden your stake?” Of course, now that she says so, Bella reflexively brushes her hand over the pocket yet again, frowning as she realizes what she’s doing. “Also, Billy Black told me.”

Which then begs the question of how the fuck _Billy_ of all people knows, unless Charlie told him (which is a strong possibility). “Fucking perfect,” she mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Something like amusement crosses Leah’s face, but her expression grows serious again as she speaks. “Look, I know something you need to know if you’re gonna be living around here in Forks. Or rather, several _somethings_. Anyway, no Slayer should live here right now without hearing me out so kindly stop freaking out about my knowing your poorly disguised superheroine gig and listen, okay?”

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” Bella huffs. “But let’s talk further away from the others, yeah?”

They sit on some boulders closer to the forest line than the surf, ostensibly watching the others splash around and start an impromptu game of “chicken”, with Tyler acting as the referee from a safe distance.

“The Cullens are vampires,” Leah says without warning.

Bella recoils because no, no, no, they are _definitely not_. “The hell they are. They go out in broad godsdamned daylight. That violates vampire rule, um, number one?” It was definitely one of the first rules her instructors had ever taught in Monster Studies.

Leah leans forward, not letting Bella retreat from her deadly serious eyes. “I’m not bullshitting you, Bella. We’ve known it here at La Push since they arrived almost a year ago. They’re very good at hiding their tracks, but Billy has photographs of them from the last time they were here a few decades ago.”

If Bella weren’t so excited about the best lead she’s had on the Cullens all week, she’d be more stubborn about Leah trying to completely upturn everything she’s ever understood about the monsters she’s mandated to kill. “I mean, I did notice that Edward had a freakishly strong punch with Tyler’s van and all but if they’re vampires, then how can they be out in broad daylight? And how can they be around regular humans on a regular basis? Why aren’t humans going missing around here?” If Carlisle is a vampire who is currently working in medicine, especially emergency medicine, then the implications are very unpleasant to consider.

“I mean the super-strength is definitely part of the vampire thing. And beats me how they can stay out in broad daylight, but then again, Forks is basically a perpetual twilight zone with its weather, anyway.” She sighs. “How they can be around other humans? Well, I still have strong doubts about Jasper’s self-control, but ever noticed how they all have the same gold eye coloring?” Bella hadn’t, actually, but nods as if she has. “That’s from their prey. They hunt wildlife in the Olympic and dump the carcasses in the ocean or bury them. We’ve been finding dead animals _everywhere_. They drink enough from them that they can abstain from humans aka Carlisle Cullen’s main rule for all vampires in his coven. Also, some of his children are married to each other.”

“ _I’m sorry, what?!_ ” Bella is very glad she’s already sitting down. She was already making plans to contact the National Park Service for more details, but then, _sudden incesty curveball_ , _much?_

“I mean, to be fair, they were already couples when he adopted them so it’s not as bad as it sounds.” Leah rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. “Well, except Edward, but his _charming_ personality has kept him perpetually single.” Her tone implies that she knows just how charming Edward is firsthand.

“Well, what do you and Billy want me to do, exactly? Slay them?” Bella makes stabbing motions with her hand.

To her surprise, Leah shakes her head, a bitter smile on her lips. “No. If you slay any of them, we could have a vampire war on our hands, which is exactly what we _don’t_ need right now. Our reservation is barely recovering from the recession as-is. They’re also not interested in hunting humans, at least as far as we can tell. That being said, Billy says they’re intruding on our tribal lands and skewing the ecosystem’s food chain with their hunts.” Leah’s eyes are intense and fiery and Bella steadfastly tries to hold her ground against finding everything about Leah attractive because _nope, stop, very bad idea, Bella_. “We’re planning to negotiate with the coven so they stop intruding. And we’re gonna need allies in case things don’t go as planned,” Leah finishes meaningfully.

“Huh,” says Bella, mind whirling with all of the new information. If what Leah is saying is true, then the Cullens _might_ be vampires in addition to the supernatural, but old lessons kick at the back of Bella’s brain, telling her there are at least three reasons she can think of why they can’t possibly be vampires wandering around in broad daylight, attending her classes, eating lunch with other students, and working in the local hospital of all places (which sounds like a serious conflict of interest and breach of medical ethics, to be honest). “ _Huh_ ,” she says again.

“I’ve info-dumped a lot on you, sorry,” Leah says, her face softening. “I had to jump on the opportunity before you put two-and-two together and tried to stake one of them or something. Think it over and, hey, let me leave you with my number ‘cause then I can send you more details and answer questions. Just… A Slayer would be really useful against colonizing vamps.”

Bella’s phone is out and in Leah’s hand before she even thinks about her own potential conflict of interest. She turns her eyes upwards, mentally explaining to the other Slayers that obtaining a pretty girl’s number is all about Slayer business, specific to being the potential muscle should the Cullens continue their pattern of rudeness with the Quileute. Maybe they’re really vampires. Maybe they’re not. If anything, she feels vindicated about her gut instinct of something being _wrong_ with them from the first day of school. It’ll be fun to rub Charlie and Giles’s faces in the new knowledge, now with at least two people who will back her up.

Leah flashes a sympathetic smile and rushes off to join the others in the water. Bella pointedly _does not_ stare.

* * *

That night is spent late on another fruitless internet search through Alice’s social media, which uncovers nothing confirming Leah’s information. The Cullens seem almost unnaturally savvy about internet privacy and hiding anything that isn’t either positive or otherwise blandly neutral on their accounts.

She flops on her bed at 2 A.M., huffing out a long, frustrated breath.

**im in** , she texts Leah. **what else can you tell me about the cullens?**

Leah almost immediately sends back an emoticon: **:)**

Three gray dots hover at the bottom of her messages for a painfully long time before Bella receives another message: **There’s a lot lmao**

**I’ll start sending the info tomorrow, promise**

**Get some sleep!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Belated chapter due to the nonsense that is 2020. Augh.  
> \- Mitsuko Uchida is a very famous classical pianist and conductor.  
> \- As this is the first chapter featuring the Quileute Reservation up close, might I take a moment and recommend [donating to the Quileute Move to Higher Ground fund if you have any cash to spare?](https://mthg.org/)  
> \- Ohohoho, what else does Leah know?  
> \- I realize Bella has a lot of mixed feelings about the Cullens here, but tbf, if your life had just been saved and if someone offered to take you to the hospital so you can avoid the dreaded American healthcare ambulance costs, would you _really_ be inclined to attack them while alone?  
> \- Chapter loosely dedicated to the memory of actor Gregory Tyree Boyce and his partner Natalie Adenike Adepoju, who both died in the middle of May 2020. (Rest in power and thank you for portraying Tyler Crowley in the films.💙)


	4. Blue and Gold

Instead of returning to the Cullen Homestead after the Truck Incident, Edward drives up to Denali and hunts, running off his restless energy during the nights and reading at the family cabin in Alaska during the day. Knowing what his family will say to him, he shuts off his phone and leaves it in the Volvo. It's not enough to get Bella Swan off his mind: the pulse pumping in the pale curve of her neck, the rust-colored tints in her brown hair, how perfectly breakable and perfectly _his_ she seemed beside him on the trip to the hospital.

He drives back to Washington on Sunday, his phone immediately ringing with a call from Alice the moment he turns it back on at a dingy gas station.

"So, are you really coming back to Forks now or do you plan to keep angsting in the woods?"

" _Alice_ ," he growls.

"Look, if you keep skipping school, the administration is gonna ask Carlisle and Esme what's up. My thinking is, you could drop out and keep avoiding Bella Swan like a coward _orrrrrr_ you could vamp up and deal with your mating urges like a _mature_ hundred-and-plus-year-old."

He sighs, using his free hand to slip out a metal credit card and pay the pump. "It's not that simple. Either I get the urge to make her my mate or I want to drain her of her blood. Neither are compatible with sharing a biology bench together."

"Well, congrats, you managed not to eat your prospective mate in your car despite thirsting as badly as Jasper on his bad days. Maybe if you just tried talking to her like a _normal person_ , you'd realize she's just a regular ol' human girl you're thirsty for, no biggie, it happens to all of us." He can hear her tapping her fingernails against a hard surface, betraying the blithe tone of her words.

"You still can't see her in the future, can you?"

"...No."

"Then how do you know I won't lose control and kill her someday?"

"Because Carlisle believes in your sense of control, dammit. Look, if anything, just try for his and Esme's sakes, okay?"

Edward breathes in the acrid smell of gasoline, trying to forget Bella’s strange, enticing scent and the way it makes him feel as though he hasn’t fed in weeks. His vampiric instincts are both conflicting and overwhelming whenever he’s around her, and he’s not sure which instinct will break his decades of self-control first.

“Look, we’ll look after you, okay?” Alice adds. “You know full well Rose and Em won’t let you harm a hair on that girl’s head if they have any say in the matter.”

“There’s no way they can do that at all hours,” Edward points out. “It’d only take a moment to kill her, Alice! She’s a human girl and all. _Fragile._ **_Small._** That damned truck almost made me lose the first female I ever felt a mating bond for.”

Alice huffs loudly in frustration. “Then we’ll take turns! And you’ll work on your goddamned self-control around her. Now get your ass back to Forks before Jasper and I track you down ourselves.”

Instead of responding, Edward ends the call. He pulls out of the gas station with a loud screech of tires, hands tightly clutching the steering wheel as he merges back onto Interstate 5, the robotic voice on his phone informing him that Bella Swan is exactly four hours and fifty minutes away.

* * *

Leah sends more info on the Cullens in an intermittent stream over Monday, punctuated by Bella's phone lighting up with new message notifications every half-hour or so. Most of it is info Bella already figured out on her own about who the Cullens pretend to be around the residents of Forks, but there are also several interesting tidbits. Some of it includes photos of the unnaturally pale and withered carcasses found by the Quileute with images also zoomed in on puncture wounds at the animals' necks. Not standard vampirism (more like the Bunnicula version of humanoid vamps), but definitely sketchy.

There are very grainy, zoomed-in pictures of a blocky, modern-looking mansion with many ceiling-to-floor windows instead of walls, surrounded by smaller cottages and what appears to be a greenhouse. Leah labels it the Cullen Homestead. It certainly doesn't look anything like the darkened, mostly underground residences of other vampire covens. Leah also has sepia-toned pictures of Carlisle and Esme Cullen in the historic district of Forks, wearing fashions that appear to be from the seventies, which Leah notes are from Billy’s collection.

More texts buzz on her phone over the course of her morning classes:

**The Cullens moved back here from Denali Nat Park. Park service there confirms the same pattern of animal carcasses, no associated human deaths/disappearances. Unknown why they chose to return (1/5?)**

**Jasper is not fully in control of bloodlust around humans and is kept in check by Alice et al & has lunged at La Push kids before. Mannerisms suggest past military/police experience? avoid being alone with him. (2/5?)**

**Evidence from past graduating classes suggests Edward has finished medical school at least twice??? (why are of any of them in high school with you idek) (3/5?)**

**Rosalie and Emmett have been spotted in Seattle area beating up men who tried to harass or attack women (gotta admit I admire them for that). Sounds like they're the muscles of the coven tho (4/5?)**

**Alice is the nicest, but knows wayyyy more than she appears. Be careful. (5/actually idk how much more I'll send you, stay posted)**

By lunchtime, even Bella's friends plus Tyler have noticed all the messages. (They invited Tyler to sit with them after Bella asked nicely, though not without good-naturedly ribbing him about running over anyone else at their table.)

"Who's the boyfriend?" Eric asks jokingly as the screen lights up for the second time in the past ten minutes.

"There is no boyfriend," Bella says firmly. _And there never will be,_ she mentally adds, forcing down the flush that threatens to color her cheeks. "A friend is helping me with a research project."

"What on?" Angie asks, propping their chin on their hands.

Bella fishes for a plausible explanation they'll understand, rather than, _"I think the undead are in our graduating class"_ , and settles on, "A history project on the Forks area and northeastern seaboard. Extra Scottish boarding school things and whatnot." She forces herself not to glance in the direction of the Cullen’s table. She doesn’t know if their supernatural skills extend to supernatural eavesdropping, too, and makes a mental note to ask Leah.

Jess's eyebrows rise. "Oh? And what have you two learned so far?"

"Uh, stuff?" Bella has never liked being under anyone's scrutiny, let alone her peers’. It makes her neck itch. "Mostly national park stuff. Not that exciting," she lies.

"Hmmm." Jess looks unconvinced and pokes her in the shoulder. "We're all from Forks. Why don't you use us to help you?"

Admittedly, the offer is tempting. It provides a convenient excuse for them to hang out ( _Friends!,_ she can already hear Giles exclaiming over the phone) and as a bonus, they could probably provide details specific to Forks and Seattle, seeing as Leah is more familiar with La Push and Olympic National Park. On the other hand, she feels like the Watcher's Council would have a thing or two to say about getting humans involved in Slayer work without full knowledge of what it entails.

A compromise with a moderate level of not-quite lying, then. She sighs. "Okay, it's basically a true-crime project. What do any of you know about unsolved disappearances and murders in the Forks-Seattle area? I’m doing a long-form report to help out my dad’s department and also get school credit." Whether or not she’ll actually turn in the report to Charlie remains to be seen.

Jess's eyebrows are threatening to disappear into her hairline. "Damn, girl, that's a _serious_ school project you've been assigned."

Bella shrugs. It’s fairly standard Slayer research, as far as that’s concerned. Listening to police scanners one or two nights out of seven is hardly gonna cut it if vampires have been feeding in the area for potential decades. 

"I could probably dig into it," Angie murmurs. "And my parents have lived here for ages; I'll bet they know something."

Tyler nods. "My Gramps knows everything there is to know about Forks. I've gotta ask him."

Mike and Eric make sounds of assent as well. Bella feels oddly warm and flustered by their support, so readily given.

"Thanks," she says softly, feeling a small smile hovering on her lips.

* * *

Surprisingly, Edward Cullen decides to show up for AP Biology that afternoon. Bella had almost grown used to having the lab bench to herself, so it's something of a shock to see him perched on his seat like an overgrown, tawny bird.

Wonder of wonders, when she sits, he actually turns to her and quietly says, "Hello."

"Um, hi," Bella replies. She rummages through her backpack for her notebook and pens, stalling as she thinks of what to do about her suddenly friendly, potentially vampiric lab partner. There isn't exactly an etiquette manual for Slayer-Undead interactions, besides _"stab them before they bite you"_. Then again, what better way to sleuth out more information for Leah on the Cullens than the Cullens themselves? "Thanks for saving my life, I guess. Need the bio notes from the classes you've missed?" She holds out her notebook meaningfully.

His eyes narrow in suspicion at the notebook. _Okay, weird._ After a moment, his shoulders relax as he accepts it, pulling out a sleek, new-looking iPhone and snapping pictures of the pages.

The rest of the class passes amicably enough as they examine and document onion cells undergoing mitosis in their lab notebooks, albeit awkward because Bella knows Edward is supernatural but _he_ doesn't know that she knows, let alone that she's supernatural, too. Any questions she nudges at him about Carlisle or his siblings are answered haltingly, with one or two words at most. _Like pulling out fangs,_ she thinks irritably.

The bell rings for the next class and over the hubbub of backpack zippers and a mad trample of footsteps, Edward suddenly blurts to her in an undertone she can barely hear, “My siblings and I… We’re getting coffee after school and they’d like to meet you. Because of the van. And my father. Would you care to join us?”

The offer is certainly tempting. It’s a prime opportunity to learn more about the Cullens and why they’ve moved back to Forks and are trespassing on Quileute territory again. Then again, there’s also a majorly tempting research project with Leah, who is much prettier and _not_ undead.

Decisions, decisions.

“I’ll have to ask,” she says, playing the _“Charlie is the Chief of Police and stereotypically uber-protective of his daughter”_ card, which is only partially true.

He inclines his head at her. “Whenever you decide, we’ll be at Mocha Motion until four.” He strides gracefully from the classroom, his plain, beige messenger bag swinging behind him.

 _Huh_ , is all Bella can think.

(Charlie, of course, responds to her text about the coffee shop with a thumbs-up emoji. Leah, on the other hand:

 **ofc you gotta go! How else are we gonna get more personal info out of them from their own mouths? report back with the juicy deets! :D** )

 _Coffee and undead conversation it is,_ Bella sighs to herself.

* * *

Mocha Motion is more of a drive-thru/walk-up food stand designed to look like a cabin than a traditional coffee shop, but has picnic tables and beach umbrellas set outside for its patrons. Fortunately, even this late in September, the air is still warm enough that Bella won’t be cold with just a denim jacket worn over flannel.

Even so, she can’t help but shiver at the way the Cullens all simultaneously turn to look at her truck pull into the roughly paved parking lot. They’re perched around one of the umbrella-covered tables like a flock of pale, overgrown birds. Alice, at least, smiles when Bella exits the truck, bouncing on her heels at the take-out window. Her dark pixie cut looks impossibly neat, as if she’s just visited a professional hairdresser.

“Bella! It’s so nice to meet you at last!” she chirps, looping an arm through one of Bella’s locked elbows. “Edward’s told me so much about you. Why don’t you try the unicorn smoothie? It’s my favorite,” she adds in a mock-whisper.

Bella side-eyes Edward, who refuses to make eye contact. “He’s said a lot about me, huh? Like what?”

Alice waves a hand. “Oh, _stuff_. Now, what would you like to drink? My treat, I promise.”

Nothing on Mocha Motion’s list really looks like “extra-strong black coffee, Charlie Swan-style” so Bella reluctantly orders the smoothie Alice recommended. In all fairness, it does rather look like a unicorn threw up in a disposable plastic cup. They even included a swirl of whipped cream and a cocktail umbrella on top.

Alice beams when she sees the cup in Bella’s hands. “See? Cutest drink on the menu!” She all but drags Bella back to the table of Cullens, not that Bella is trying to resist as much as not spill something that probably costs the same amount as a full meal at a local diner.

“Everyone, this is Bella Swan, Edward’s lab partner,” Alice says, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Bella, this is Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie, and of course you know Ed.”

It’s probably a bad idea to announce that she already knows who they are thanks to stalking their social media accounts for evidence of vampirism, so she merely nods. Jasper, Bella notes, sits about as far away as he possibly can from her on the other side of the table. Edward only looks up when she takes a seat on the same bench as Rosalie and Emmett. He isn’t attempting to drive off in his Volvo again, so she’ll take it as an improvement.

“My brother hasn’t been bothering you too much, has he, Bella?” Emmett asks. Emmett looks built like a linebacker, his easy grin the only soft thing about him. _Definitely the muscle of the Cullen coven._ “Just say the word and I’ll bully him for you.”

“ _Be nice_ ,” Alice says, playfully swatting a hand at his arm. “You know Ed would’ve never heard the end of it from Dad if he hadn’t offered to drive her to the hospital.”

Rosalie elegantly rolls her eyes, taking a sip from what appears to be a fancy-looking latte. “If you all want to start arguments, _fine_ , but I’d much rather be shopping at Port Angeles. Summer clearance sales only last for so long, you know.”

Instead of commenting, Bella tentatively sips her smoothie. It tastes like liquid cotton candy. She hides her grimace behind a hand.

“Good, isn’t it?” Alice asks, an identical-looking cup of multicolored goop in front of her. “So, Bella, we’re all just _dying_ to know… What brings you to Forks? It’s uncommon for someone to move here just to finish high school.”

Apparently, she’s not the only person at the table eager to probe for information. Luckily, Bella already has some pre-planned white lies. “Custody issues. I have to stay with my dad until I’m eighteen.” That’s not even a lie. (Technically.) Alice hums sympathetically. “Why did your parents move you to Forks in the middle of high school, too?”

Jasper, seemingly fixated on his phone, flashes Alice a warning glance. Something in his strained expression and widened eyes makes him look downright feral next to the rigidly elegant Cullens. Bella forces a neutral expression on her face, meeting Alice’s brightly expressive eyes.

“Oh, well, Mom wanted a change of scenery and then Dad’s contract with the hospital in Anchorage ended at the right time, so little Forks seemed like just the _perfect_ spot. It’s just so adorable and cozy and small, isn’t it, Ed?” She nudges him with an elbow. “ _Edward?_ ”

Edward sighs and makes eye contact with Bella for the first time since AP Biology. “Yes, it’s very nice to live here.” He sounds like a child being forced by his mother to say something polite about an unwanted present.

“And what do you think, Bella? Do you like it so far?” Alice asks.

“It’s alright, I suppose,” Bella says. “I like visiting La Push and the beaches there.” Might as well let them know of her connection to the Quileute, even if they might have guessed from Charlie and Billy’s friendship. “And I enjoy hiking. I don’t suppose you might know of any decent trails around here?”

Emmett chuckles. “I dunno if we’d be the best source on that. We hike them all, even the less popular ones, don’t we, Rose?” Rose fixes him with a withering glare and says nothing.

“Oh, _pish_ , I’ll send you links on the prettier, totally Insta-worthy ones if you give me your number,” Alice says.

 _What is it about Forks that keeps making pretty girls want to text me_? Bella wonders, giving Alice one of the Google Voice numbers that routes to an app on her phone instead of her real number. Pretty girl or not, safety first with all undead communication.

The conversation shifts from there to pictures of interesting wildflowers Alice has seen on the Cullens’ hikes, the best places for hiking boots in Port Angeles and Seattle, and _oh, you’d just love this shop we passed through once in Tacoma, Bella, it’s so very hipster_.

Since trying to gather information from the Cullens has been next to useless thus far, yielding bland pleasantries at best, Bella tries a bolder tack.

“So, I’m working on a school project for Charlie’s department,” she says casually, rolling her cup between her hands and willing it to melt faster so it looks like she’s done more than taste it. She hopes they’ve been in Forks long enough to know who Charlie is, at least. “And I’m just wondering…” She pauses, hoping they’re intrigued enough to take the bait. Alice is leaning towards her, at least, and Edward is staring. “Perhaps those who are newer to the Forks area might notice things better than the locals.”

“What sort of things?” Rosalie’s thumbs stilling in the middle of sending a text message belies the bored tone of her question.

“Oh, nothing much beyond the usual for a history project on a small town,” Bella says. “Local crime statistics. Unusual trends over time. Disappearances and other rural wilderness weirdness.” She pointedly stares at Edward, daring his impassive face to give something, _anything_ away. The dent deep enough to damage Tyler’s engine hangs unspoken between them. It’s a card she’s not quite ready to play yet, but perhaps metaphorically fiddle in her hands, as it were.

“Your school project is probably going to be very boring,” Rosalie says smoothly, finishing her text message as though she never stopped. “ _Nothing_ ever happens here.”

Alice’s smile has faltered. “I wouldn’t say so so rudely, I suppose, but Rose is right, unfortunately. Forks is a _very_ sleepy town. We go to Port Angeles or Seattle if we want a bit of excitement. You’re probably the most interesting thing to happen here in a long while. I’m sure Edward would agree, yes?”

If not for the fact that Bella currently sits in broad daylight under a beach umbrella with a Cullen-bought drink and her neck still intact, she would assume Alice meant her status as a Slayer. But no one makes a move to disarm her of her stake and no one comments on the crucifix she wears, so she supposes Alice must mean that new people are, in general, a novelty for the Forks community. On the other hand, Edward locks his eyes with Bella’s, a gesture reminiscent of the moment he saved her from Tyler’s van, something very dark and peculiar in his gaze.

“Bella is helping me with biology,” he says simply. Something about that is apparently very funny to Emmett because he badly hides his laugh behind a cough.

Maybe the Cullen Homestead holds more answers. If Bella ever gets to see it, that is. She decides to drop the subject and play “helpful and innocent classmate” again, shrugging carelessly. “Anytime, dude. Well, if you hear of anything, you’ll tell me, yeah? Having a thorough data set would be _just so useful_ to my father’s work, you know?” She checks the time on her phone. “And oh, speaking of, I’ve gotta run. Charlie needs me to help prep dinner. Thanks for the coffee, Alice. Nice to meet y’all.” She awkwardly waves goodbye and escapes to her truck, though she only allows herself to deeply exhale when she can no longer see any of the Cullen’s shiny cars in her rearview mirrors.

* * *

Charlie is six-and-a-half hours and three cups of coffee into his twice-a-week, twelve-hour shift when Jim Anderson knocks on the door of his office.

“Hey, Chief, you’ve got a few?” he asks when Charlie lets him in, one hand smoothing his uniform pants, even though Charlie has never once seen Jim look even minutely unkempt.

Sighing as he looks at the still-large stack of reports and paperwork beside his desktop, he indicates that Jim sit in the old folding chair in front of his desk.

“What is it, Jimmy?”

“We just got a missing person alert from the Seattle PD. A homeless kid, too.” Jim flashes an image on his phone of a teenaged girl faintly smiling at a camera, wearing an oversized T-shirt that proudly proclaims the name of one of Seattle’s youth outreach centers.

 _She looks a bit like Bella at that age_ , Charlie thinks, unsettled by the idea of his daughter getting lost in a big city, supposed Slayer or not.

“So I was thinking, maybe we could put posters up in the community spaces around here? The more eyes, the better? And since you know Billy Black…”

Charlie knows the Quileute Nation tends to not involve themselves with police work if they can help it (for _several_ good reasons, he mentally adds), but they might be more willing to concern themselves with a lost teenager. “I’ll ask,” Charlie says, careful to not make any promises. “Make sure to get some of those missing person posters in the downtown public restrooms, too, alright? And tell the local high school to keep an eye out.”

The shuts behind Jim again, leaving Charlie to his paperwork and sudden need for yet another cup of coffee.

* * *

**Have You Seen Me?**

_[Image of an obviously too-thin, teenaged girl with dark eyes and straight, black hair smiling faintly at the camera, wearing a white shirt with colorfully printed words that are too difficult to make out from the resolution on the poster.]_

**NAME: Andrea DiStefano**

**FROM: Seattle, WA**

**DOB: 1/31/06**

**AGE: 13**

**SEX: Female**

**HAIR: Black**

**EYES: Dark Brown**

**HEIGHT: 5’1”**

**WEIGHT: 90 lbs**

**CALL THE TOLL-FREE HOTLINE: 1-800-THE-LOST**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Missed me? I'm entering the final year of my health professions program, sorry. I expect updates for a lot of my WIPs to be patchy at best for the next while as I move closer to graduation and getting a grown-up job.  
> \- You might notice that I've shifted the canonical years forward a bit. This chapter, for example, roughly takes place during late September 2020. We're gonna imagine this AU also takes place in a world where COVID-19 doesn't happen in 2020. But also, I'm very bad at keeping my sense of time in any of my WIPs so please try not to overthink it too much; I plan to hand-wave a lot for the sake of moving the plot along.  
> \- Mocha Motion is a real place in Forks. (Please don't sue me for describing your smoothies as uber-sweet, y'all. Bella just really isn't into very sweet foods. She was raised very strictly by the Watchers, okay.)  
> \- Yes, I do realize Charlie being the Chief of Police is rather awkward, given that I'm writing this during the events of 2020. I'm not gonna, like, pretend his profession is all sunshine and rainbows, either, but I am aware that it's Problematic AF and rooted in some very nasty American history, similar to Jasper's background.  
> \- Andrea DiStefano was made up for this fic and those in another certain book fandom featuring shifters, werewolves, and vampires might pick up on what she's referencing. That hotline is a real number; please don't call it on her behalf.


	5. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Content warnings in this chapter for: depictions of teenagers drinking alcohol and consuming weed, animal death, descriptions of animal blood, death mention**

October brings an onslaught of exams, reports, and the dreaded Common App along with its frost-bitten mornings and fire-colored leaves. The workload steadily piles on Bella’s shoulders until she falls asleep during AP Literature and is poked awake by Mike. She quietly admits at lunchtime that perhaps they should meet at Charlie’s to tackle the work together, a suggestion that Eric responds to with an enthusiastic fist-bump while Angie mutters, “ _Finally._ ”

After that, they get in a habit of tackling schoolwork and true-crime research around the kitchen table, Charlie occasionally popping his head in and offering snacks and water (admittedly, he makes a _mean_ cheddar-jalapeño dip _)_. A little voice that sounds suspiciously like the admonishing tone of the Watchers Council tells her that she should have brought Charlie and Giles into the loop on her self-appointed vampire project by now, but she shuts it up. If they wouldn't listen to her own suspicions, why would they listen to Leah's claims instead? Not to mention, only she and Leah know that the project’s true intention is to blackmail the Cullens into staying off the Quileute lands. Or something like that, anyway. (It's a work in progress. A highly frustrating work in progress.)

The only recent lead on the true-crime project has been the disappearance of Andrea DiStefano in Seattle, which Bella reluctantly had to mentally mark as "insufficient evidence of the supernatural" after her classmates couldn't find much more on it than the police reports. Leah eagerly accepts any info Bella sends her way, especially now that she’s on actual speaking terms with her reclusive lab partner. Not that he's even remotely as talkative as Alice, who texts Bella at least twice weekly, asking her to sit with them at lunch or to get coffee after school and who chatters nonstop about her favorite bands, celebrity gossip Bella is completely hopeless at understanding, and her latest modeling gigs with Urban Outfitters and some independent outlets in Port Angeles.

After two weeks of taking every chance she can to play along as Alice’s new friend, nothing even remotely seems suspicious for vampirism more than "they mostly just push food around on their plates and seem to subsist on coffee and tea" comes out of it, but it's _something_. At least, something better than accusations of Carlisle’s adopted children marrying each other, which, aside from the way Emmett and Rosalie are overly comfortable in each other’s personal space, Bella can’t verify beyond Leah’s claims. Bella promises that she _will_ stoop to snooping once they invite her over to the Cullen Homestead. Maybe then she’ll also solve the other mysteries about them, such as how they manage to waltz around in broad fucking daylight without even the slightest whiff of vampire barbeque about them.

In a way, Bella welcomes the distraction of both schoolwork and a project that allows her to spend time with friends because October means _Samhain_ , and _Samhain_ means all the monsters of the world feel much more comfortable with causing trouble for Slayers and Watchers alike.

Charlie announces at dinner one Thursday night that he’s long overdue for a fishing trip with Billy and that if Bella is alright with it, Jacob will sleep over in the guest room so neither teenager is left alone over the weekend. Well, it’s not as if Bella would ever say no to catching up with Jacob.

She makes good on the promise to Skype Rebecca and Rachel with him, which is approximately 90% Jacob chattering about school and the pranks he and Embry have been plotting with Seth and 10% awkward small talk among the girls. It’s still nice, in a way, though the sisters both look like strangers to her now.

Bella accidentally makes the mistake of admitting she’s never seen any of the Addams Family movies, so Jacob insists on a weekend marathon, complete with overflowing bowls of artificial butter-flavored popcorn and cajoling her into braiding his hair to look like Wednesday’s for his Snapchat followers.

In an attempt to run off some of his endless energy, she has him join her for the Slayer exercises (although not mentioning why she’s actually practicing them, of course). He’s enthusiastic about the sprinting, but less so about the one-handed pushups after he falls on his face a half-dozen times. Still, he does better than she’d figure for someone who’s never done the full routine before.

Later, after he’s fallen asleep, Bella texts Leah:

**B: you still awake?**

**L: Yeah! what’s up?**

**B: i was thinking… maybe i should tell charlie about the research?**

**L: I mean, he’s your Watcher. Ish. So it makes sense to tell him. But what could he do for us Quileute, really? Sic his cops on the Cullens and tell them to stop???**

**B: true**

**B: idk, i guess i’ll try to get a bit further with alice before telling him**

**L: Ok, your decision and all that. Anything new on your end of things? I got nada this week**

**B: no, just the usual alice gossip and edward being poker-faced af whenever i see him**

**L: Bleh. Ok then, have a good nite ^^**

**B: goodnight**

* * *

“My parents are going out of town for their anniversary again this year so I’m inviting all of you to my Halloween Bash and, yes, we are _totally_ doing a group costume if you want to attend,” Jess announces at lunch a few days before the holiday.

Angie half-raises their hand. “Um, _Jess_ , I was gonna go as my Link cosplay?”

“You’ve gone as that cosplay for the past three years running, dearie. And no worries, I already purchased all the costumes so there’s literally no effort on anyone’s part except wearing them so we finally look like a real squad together!” Jess turns to Bella and says, “I’ll bet you’ve never been to a real Halloween party before and, let me tell you, I plan to pull out all the stops. Music, food, drinks, whatever; it’s gonna be so much fun, I promise!”

Bella hesitates. It does sound _fun_ , especially if it resembles any of the American high school parties from the movies she sometimes watched in Scotland. Plus, she would probably win points with both Charlie and Giles for going and pretending to act like a regular teenager for a while. On the other hand, traditionally Slayers patrol the streets the night of Halloween to protect local humans from would-be predators.

“I dunno, if Charlie isn’t working then I might have this old family tradition to do…”

Jess pokes her in the shoulder. “Pssh, _traditions_. Don’t tell me you’re gonna pass up on my last Halloween party before college just because of something as silly as peer pressure from the dead. Also, in what utopian universe does a police chief not work in his precinct on one of the holidays best known for folks getting drunk and disorderly and creating a ruckus? I know you wanna go, Bella.”

Bella opens her mouth, realizes Jess has made an excellent point, and shuts it again. Then again, what if Halloween is the night when Alice and Edward finally admit what she’s known all along and then show her the humans they’ve been secretly feeding on in a grungy bunker somewhere in the woods… She doesn’t even realize she’s looking over at the Cullens’ table until Jess pokes her in the shoulder yet again.

“And don’t even fucking think about using the Cullens as an excuse to hide on your laptop all night. I dunno what’s going on with them suddenly wanting to be your friend, but I know for a _fact_ they would be total party poopers and probably just want you to work on homework with them all night or something.”

“I resent that remark,” Angie mutters into their water bottle.

“Aww, Angie, you know Jess doesn’t mean you’re a party pooper,” Eric says, slinging an arm around their shoulders. “After all, you’re still going and you and Mike are gonna make the goodies like last time, right?”

Angie looks at him, eyebrow quirked. It’s perhaps the first time Bella has ever seen a look resembling mischief on their face.

“Goodies?” Tyler asks, saving Bella the trouble of asking about it herself. (She strongly suspects it can only mean something the Watchers would frown upon.)

Mike smirks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at Angie, who smirks right back. “As if I could ever forget _those_. That puts you on drink duty, Eric. Nothing that’ll get the party busted too early.”

“No worries, my friend will fix me up with the works,” Eric says, mock-saluting him.

“It better not be boxed wine,” Mike tells him.

Eric dramatically clasps a hand to his chest and makes a squawk of horror. “Boxed wine? How dare you! It’s _Cardbordeaux_ , you plebian, and it’s cheap and delicious. But no, Halloween is for suspiciously-colored mixed drinks; everyone knows that!”

Jess claps her hands to make them look at her, preemptively cutting off Mike from squabbling further with Eric. “Then it’s settled! We’re all going. We’ll figure out who wears what when I drop off the costumes after study group, although…” She trails off, glancing at Bella and Tyler beside her. “…I think I may have some specific choices in mind for a few of them.”

* * *

The Stanleys live in a multistoried craftsman-styled house that borders the national park at the outermost limits of the backyard. Bella can hear the thumping bass of the music coming from the house even before she finishes parking along their long driveway, which is packed with at least a dozen or so cars.

She feels ridiculous in her costume, but even Charlie had complimented it and practically shooed her out the door so she’d have time to drive slowly through the streets filled with trick-or-treaters and other revelers that late at night. He’s pulling an overnight shift for Halloween, just as Jess predicted.

Scooby-Doo opens the door after she raps loudly with the knocker several times. She blinks at him.

“Eric?” she asks, guessing that the theater geek of their group would have chosen the costume.

“ _Ractually, roh,_ ” says Scooby-Doo in a surprisingly spot-on impression of the character’s voice. “We fought over it but then I started talking like him and Eric admitted he’d rather wear a wig and ascot than a, and I quote, ‘glorified fursuit’ anyway,” continues Scooby-Doo-with-Mike’s-voice. “Sucks to suck. Lucky for me, I grew up watching that show until the DVDs were scratched to all hell, hmm? You make a cute Velma, by the way.” He shows her inside, amplifying his voice to be heard over the music.

“Um, thanks,” Bella not quite shouts. She personally _hates_ the skirt but agreed to wear it after Jess pointed out that a) it has pockets, ( _you’re welcome, girl scout_ ), and b) she included a pair of rather comfy boxer-like shorts to wear underneath. Additionally, Jess had allowed her to swap the iconic Mary Janes for red hiking boots after Bella literally put her foot down. On the other hand, the fake, thick-framed glasses keep sliding down her nose. _How does Giles wear these things every day?_

Inside the house, orange and black paper streamers drape from the doorways and wrap around a carpeted stairway in the front hallway. Small plastic jack-o’-lanterns glow in every corner Bella can see and jelly skeleton appliques dance along the walls.

The host of the party meets them in a blur of purple and stomping, shimmery go-go boots. Predictably, her characteristic headband matches in the same shade.

“Bella, you’re here!” she exclaims, red solo cup in hand that sloshes dangerously as she hugs her. “I _told_ Eric you wouldn’t chicken out of coming and I was so right. You’ve so gotta see what the others are wearing, c’mon!”

Jess herds-slash-strong-arms them into the living room, where Eric in a truly hideous blonde wig and Angie in a Shaggy ensemble that looks like actual vintage 70s clothing are playing Mario Kart. Tyler is sitting on the couch and wearing…

“I’m the Mystery Machine,” he says dryly, gesturing to the getup, consisting of cardboard painted an eyewatering blue, green, and orange, slung over his shoulders. There may even be a layer of glitter on top, or perhaps that’s the aftereffects lingering in her eyes from the color combo. “Jess thought the irony would be delightful.”

“You could say I was inspired both by our true-crime project and recent events,” Jess says, tapping her nose with a finger. The doorbell rings and she rushes off, shouting, “That must be the other folks I invited! Wait for me to get back!”

“So… how much alcohol has Jess had so far?” Bella asks, slouching on the sofa with Tyler.

“Just the one drink, shockingly,” he tells her. “I think she’s just excited. Extrovert happy-making things and all that.”

“Ah,” says Bella, resisting the urge to check if there are any new messages from Leah or Alice on her phone. Before she left the house, Charlie had told her to “have fun”, but left the finer details up to interpretation. That being said, she’s not sure what her actual police chief guardian would say about a party with underage drinking. On the other hand, isn’t a year without the Watchers breathing down her neck a natural opportunity to try all the fun things they forbade at the school?

From the sounds of the gameplay (and Eric’s groans), Angie is currently winning with a green-capped blonde character driving a motorcycle. Eric’s character wears a mushroom on their head and drives a clown car and manages to hit almost every banana peel on the racecourse.

“I play winner,” Mike says. 

“Take off the fursuit, then,” Eric snaps, looking like he wants to throw the controller at Mike’s head. Mike sticks his tongue out at him.

“Settle down, children,” Jess says, returning with arms linked around two girls dressed as the Phantom Shadows. “Meet Jamila and Marie from orchestra, who are actual angels because they brought everyone pizzas. Jamila and Marie, _the Mystery Inc_.”

There’s a round of awkward introductions and then Jess eventually manages to gather everyone in front of the couch, facing a professional-looking digital camera mounted on a tripod.

“Everyone say _Jinkies!_ ” Jess says, setting the timer and plopping sideways on the couch while making a peace sign. “Oh yeah, this is _one hundred percent_ getting framed.”

After a burst of pictures, Eric hands the gaming controller to Marie instead of Mike, who pouts and goes to make small talk with Jamila in the kitchen, muttering something about grabbing a box of pizza and snacks for everyone else.

Bella settles in on the couch again with a slice of everything pizza and a green-colored cup of something Jess pours her that smells suspiciously like margarita mix. She drinks it anyway. She's had alcohol before, usually under the close eye of the Watchers at formal Slayer events, but never with just her peers. _Bottoms up to new experiences and all that_ , she thinks with another gulp.

Giving a long, happy sigh, Jess curls up on the couch next to Bella, tucking her feet underneath her. "Ah, I've missed having house parties," she says. "I'm so glad all of you made it."

Marie swears loudly at the TV as Angie shoots a red shell at her player.

"Thanks for inviting me," Bella says unsure of what else she should say. What's she supposed to talk about at parties, anyway? She can guess school and the true-crime project wouldn't be appropriate topics.

Mike saves her the trouble by popping back in the living room with a plate full of brownies. "Goodies time!"

"Oh hell yes," says Angie, pausing the game.

"Dare I ask what's in those things?" Jamila asks from behind Eric, who's already reaching for one of them.

"Only Seattle's Very Best," Mike says, handing the plate around to everyone in the room. "Eat 'em now, before it's too late and Jess gets stuck with your tripped-up ass crashing on her carpet."

Even Bella can figure out what he means by that. She accepts the brownie while staring at it with open suspicion. _Again, to new experiences?_ A nibble of it tastes oddly strong and mint-flavored, but not terrible.

Jamila demurs from taking one, pointedly opting for a canned soda. "You try it, Marie. I might as well be the responsible one tonight."

Angie eats two and suggests that they all take turns playing something called "Kario Mart" to which the rest cheer, except for Tyler.

"Ugh, I'm such a lightweight, there is no fucking way I'm gonna win a match."

"You could always drink sodas with Jamila," Marie suggests, getting up to make herself another mixed drink.

Eric flops on the rug dramatically. "Aww, but I was so hoping we'd get a chance to see 'Drunk Tyler'!"

Tyler makes a face. "Oh, you really don't. I make a very annoying drunk. Last time I got really drunk, I sang sad country songs until they gagged me with my own jacket."

“ _Booooo_.” Eric flips over so he can look at Bella. "I bet you'd make a fun drunk, Velma. I never see you act anything but stoic."

Bella raises an eyebrow at him and takes another bite of the edible, washing it down with the cocktail, which _definitely_ tastes like it has more than one standard drink in it. Whatever. She's here to play a fun American teenager without the Watchers breathing down her neck about "destiny" and "responsibilities" and if that means an impromptu sleepover on Jess's couch until she's sober, then so be it. _It’s only one night, right?_

By the time she starts to feel the effects of the alcohol (a warming sensation in her stomach and a pleasant dulling of the 24/7 Slayer hypervigilance instinct), Bella feels bold enough to challenge Angie to a round of Kario Mart, which turns out to be a drinking game (predictably). They beat her soundly and make her take another shot as penance. Mike swats her hand away from the remaining brownies when she reaches for another, ignoring her protests and steering her towards the sodas and pizza instead.

"I dunno what you've tried in Scotland, but I promise that you of all people don't want more than one dose of what Angie and I perfected thanks to organic chem." He laughs at her petulant expression. "Yeah, you've had enough. Time for you to take a break."

"But I don't even feel that much different," she whines, trying to reach around him to access the plate.

"Uh-huh," he says in disbelief, frog-marching Bella back to the living room. "Jess, our nerd is officially dopily-drunk and the weed hasn’t even hit her yet. You’re on babysitting duty.”

Jess pats the cushion next to her and sighs. “ _Fiiiiiine_. Sit here, Belladonna. I need a headrest.”

As soon as Bella sits, Jess plops her head on Bella’s lap. A distant part of her Slayer brain warns that allowing her friends to order her around and even touch her to do so is especially _odd_ behavior on her part, to say the least. But that part of her brain is being loudly drowned out by how nice Jess’s physical affection feels, the way her head spins as she watches Tyler and Jamila play a sober round of Kario Mart, the pounding in her ears as the speakers play “Monster Mash” and “Thriller”.

At some point, the weed hits. It _must_ have hit at some point, but gun to her head, Bella can’t say when because her recall is rather fuzzy on the matter.

That being said, at some point, someone gets the bright idea for all of them to go stargazing in the Stanley’s backyard, even though the national park grows close enough to block out a good view of the sky and even without the trees, the full moon rising above them drowns out most of the stars anyway. Still, they take turns spinning around in circles while looking up (with Jamila standing watch for anyone in danger of looking too queasy) and then collapse on the leaf-covered ground, giggling. It’s fun and stupid and plain _fun_.

Bella dozes off at some point on someone’s stomach, (maybe Mike’s since his costume is the fluffiest), and then startles awake at the sound of a wolf howling nearby. _Uncomfortably nearby_ , even with the effects of alcohol and weed lingering in her system. Another wolf joins it, then another, and she shivers, hand instinctively clutching at the stake in her skirt pocket.

“Do you hear that?” Jess asks, voice scratchy with sleep.

Bella sits up, meeting her friend’s eyes. “Wolves,” she says.

“But there haven’t been wolves in the Olympic for almost fifty years,” Jess says, looking confused. The others begin to stir and wake up as the howling continues.

 _Halloween_. _Full moon. Animal carcasses. The Cullens moving back after five decades_. The pieces start to click together for Bella. “Oh my god,” she whispers. “They’re not vampires; they’re werewolves!”

She moves on instinct towards the woods, hoping the stake and mace she caries will be enough if things get nasty, but she knows _this_ is the moment she and Leah have been waiting for, the moment where they can confront the Cullens red-handed for intruding on traditional Quileute territory and use their true identities to warn them off.

“I’m sorry _, what_ about werewolves?” Mike says behind her. She ignores them, single-mindedly moving towards the pack.

“Hey, Bella, wait!” Jess calls. “We’re coming with you!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she yells back, relying on Slayer instinct to track the sounds, even as she sees the others turn their phones on flashlight mode and jog to catch up.

“Safety in numbers, Bella,” Jess says. “Also, you just had an edible tonight. _On top of the booze._ Don’t be fucking stupid; we’re responsible for you until you sober up.”

“I’m _completely_ fine,” Bella says, stumbling over a root.

She chooses to ignore Tyler muttering something that sounds suspiciously like “ _bullshit_ ”. The eerie howling and moonlight filtering through the evergreens eventually end all casual chattering and the teenagers move further into the park, the trees swallowing them up.

* * *

Edward Cullen _hunts_. A doe bounds ahead of him, delicate and nimble-footed, but no match for his speed. He would have caught it sooner if it hadn’t been a full moon. Full and nearly-full moons mean that his skin glitters more than usual on night hunts, and his prey often flees before he can pounce. It’s especially frustrating, given that he had to endure an entire week around Bella Swan’s enticing scent in class. He _needs_ to feed.

The doe freezes suddenly, ears twitching, and he attacks, sinking his fangs into its neck. Blood floods his mouth, warm and sweet.

_Bliss._

So preoccupied with the feeding ritual, Edward only considers why the doe froze while he was in hot pursuit when he resurfaces from the bloodlust haze, wiping his mouth on a sleeve.

Then, he hears it, a hollow sound traveling through the woods to his ears: A wolf pack lifting their voices in song. (Of course, to a vampire, it sounds about as pleasant as metal scratching a porcelain plate.)

He freezes, trying to sense how far away they are, and almost stumbles in shock when the mating bond pulls at him. A whiff of the air confirms the worst: Bella Swan is not far from the wolves herself.

Edward Cullen _runs_.

* * *

First, Bella is so focused on finding the Cullen-werewolves that she doesn’t even think about what she’ll say until she arrives in a clearing filled with them, all quieting their howls as soon as the humans arrive and staring at them intently.

Second, she hasn’t even considered that there might be more than _seven_ of them together. She counts at least ten, that is, if the weed and combo of odd shadows at moonrise aren’t making her see things wrong. (It’s a strong possibility. Her head spins a little from running on too many intoxicants and too little water, even with Mike cutting her off early.)

Third, she hasn’t really thought about her friends learning of Slayers and the supernatural via chasing after probable werewolves on Halloween after getting both drunk and high, but it’s too late for sobriety _now_.

She halts a good distance from them, trying to think of what to say, avoiding eye contact with any of the wolves because, well, the Watchers always said looking in the eyes of anything remotely wild and monstrous was probably a bad idea. They probably meant things like basilisks, but still.

“Woah, there _really are_ wolves,” Mike breathes. “Geeze, they’re huge!”

The smallest one of the pack is still larger than a German shepherd, with light gray fur, who trots a little closer to Bella, then stops a couple of meters away from her and sits, tail wagging.

“This was such a stupid idea and I can’t believe I’m the only sober one here,” says Jamila, backing away into the relative safety of the trees. “I’m calling _9-1-1_ if any of you Mystery Inc idiots get bit and contract rabies.”

“ _Ohhh my god_ , but Jay, lookit the huge black-furred one, he’s so cute and fluffy!” Without warning, Marie barges in front of Bella and the rest, making a bee-line for the wolf that’s as big as a horse and indeed, very long-furred and very much growling at the girl who wants to pet it.

“Marie, get away from it!” Jamila cries.

“Nice wolfie,” Marie coos, moving closer, ignoring the increasing loudness of its growls. “I just wanna scritch your _ne—_ "

Whatever she’s going to say next is cut off with a shriek as the wolf bats her away with a paw, snarling. She collapses on the loam, the green Phantom Shadow fabric tangling her legs.

Luckily, Bella knows exactly how to respond to monsters attacking. “Hey, back off!” she says, pulling out her stake and waving it at the wolf while lifting Marie onto her feet. “I know who you are and I swear to the Watchers I’ll defend myself!” She hopes the Cullens know enough about Slayers to get the message.

She makes the mistake of looking into its golden eyes while backing away with Marie and swears when it snarls again, revealing huge, dagger-like incisors. She turns and passes Marie off to Jess, who is the nearest of the humans in the clearing since the rest have sensibly retreated closer to Jamila and the trees.

“Jess, get yourself and the rest out of here!”

Jess raises an eyebrow and passes Marie off to Mike. “ _Oh fuck that_ , I’m not letting you face down a pack of wolves all by yourself. What kind of friend would that make me?”

“Hello, I’m a Slayer. It’s _literally_ my job to handle these sorts of things.” Bella waves the stake a little.

Jess rolls her eyes and raises her hands, which Bella at first takes as a sign of surrender to _obviously_ superior Slayer logic, until glowing, pink sparkles spread over Jess’s hands from fingertips to wrists.

“ _What. The. Fuck._ ” Bella says, her head spinning even more. “Since when are you a _witch?_ ”

“Since when are you a _Slayer?_ ” Jess retorts, tossing her hair. “Also, to answer your question: Since birth. _Duh._ ”

Eric takes a few tentative steps towards where the girls are facing off, the werewolves completely ignored for the moment. “Hold up, back the fuck up, will any of you explain what _the fuck_ is going on? ‘Cause first we go chasing after Bella’s werewolves while still dressed up as the fucking _Mystery Inc,_ and by the way, like, I didn’t plan to look like Freddie Jones when I inevitably die very dramatically but then both of you turn out to be _witches?_ Dare I ask if anyone else we know around here is super special?”

“I don’t know—I’ll have to ask Gramps,” Tyler says apologetically.

Angie opens their mouth and Eric stops them from speaking with a hand.

“ _Nuh-uh,_ you’re a certified genius, don’t even try to tell me you aren’t supernaturally special.”

“Actually, I was gonna say I’m still too high to process this shit and wanna go home,” they say. 

“ _Oh._ Yeah, you better take Marie and Jamila with you, then,” Eric says.

The trio of Angie-Marie-Jamila has barely walked away from the rest when the relative quiet that’s descended on the clearing is disrupted by loud crashing through the underbrush and the crack of broken branches. Jess and Bella turn towards the new intruder, hands still raised. All of the wolves are stirring uneasily, even the ones who had calmly sat while the teenagers argued.

Edward Cullen bursts into the clearing in a blur, coming to a stop in front of Bella. There are twigs and leaves stuck in his usually tidy hair and he shockingly looks out of breath for once, leaning to the side as he breathes heavily.

Bella’s internal jigsaw puzzle of facts upends itself for the second time that night with new data: Edward Cullen, still humanoid-looking despite the moonlight trickling through the branches above them. More than seven wolves in the pack.

She slaps her forehead. “ _Ugh_ , I am so fucking stupid. The wolves aren’t the Cullens.”

“Of course they aren’t the Cullens!” A girl enters the clearing and it takes a moment for Bella to recognize her as Emily Young, given that she’s almost doubled-over with what looks like a mesh sack of laundry and blankets in her arms. “Jacob says you’re supposed to be super smart, but I fail to see _how_ at the moment.”

Edward hisses at Emily. Honest-to-gods _hisses_ , like a cat. Emily scoffs at him and unpacks the contents of her bag.

“Excuse me, will anyone explain why Bella’s biology partner suddenly decided to show up?” Mike asks, raising a hand.

“Yeah, _why_ did you show up, Edward?” Bella asks, frowning at him. At least the night isn’t a complete waste, with at least one Cullen to confront. As for the wolves, well, get info from the _confirmed_ supernatural boy first, _then_ ask Emily to explain what the fuck is going on.

“Because I had to,” he says, evading her eyes.

“ _Riiiiight,_ you just _had_ to conveniently show up in the same exact clearing in Olympic National Park, on Halloween, right as my friends and I find a wolf pack. And before tonight, you had uncannily good timing with stopping the van. Are you stalking me or something?” She takes a big step back from him.

“Um,” he says, looking tongue-tied. “Not quite?”

“Okay, I suppose I can ask Alice about it,” she adds, stepping back again, tugging Jess’s sleeve as she does so. He grabs Bella’s wrist so quickly that only years of training make her twist her arm and use her other hand to break the lock. The stake drops on the ground between them.

Two of the wolves jump between Edward and Bella, growling at him. One is the now-familiar small wolf with light gray fur and the other is much larger and russet-furred. They bare their teeth at Edward, forcing some distance between Slayer and Undead. Impossibly, they seem to be _protecting_ Bella from him?

“Alright, knock it off with the territorial pissing contest, all of you,” Emily says, glaring at them. “It’s past three in the morning and I need my beauty sleep. Grab some clothes and blankets, you furry drama kings. Time to be real boys again.”

There’s a sound not-quite like a sheet ripping that repeats over and over again as wolves shift back. Unfortunately, they do so sans-clothing.

“ _Aw man_ ,” bemoans a voice that she thinks is Seth Clearwater’s. “My favorite jeans are gone!”

Bella swiftly turns away and averts her eyes to give them some semblance of privacy and at some point during the shift-to-humans and subsequent re-clothing, Edward disappears. _Ah well,_ Bella thinks, ‘ _Go ask Alice, I think she’ll know’ and all that._

“ _Why_ did I have to wear my Avenged Sevenfold shirt today?” That’s definitely Jacob’s voice.

“You talk like that’s even remotely as tragic as losing a good bra,” says Leah. _Wait, Leah?_ “It took me forever to find one that fits!”

“Leah?” Bella asks tentatively, turning around. She recognizes some of the boys from visiting Jacob, but the ones who look more like fully grown men are complete strangers to her, though Rachel and Rebecca would probably know who they are. Leah walks towards her, barefoot and wrapped from the neck down in a blanket. She smiles wryly at Bella.

“I love your Velma costume! Also, I’m a werewolf, apparently. _Surprise?_ ”

* * *

Charlie Swan always volunteers to work the Halloween shifts, even though he hates them. Given that his only child is an older teenager, he doesn’t see any reason not to give the parents of younger children the night off, but Halloween is still _the worst_. Drunk and disorderly reports have flowed through his precinct all night about as easily as the liquor access in this part of Washington. Despite his team’s best efforts to send most of the rowdy revelers home with a slap on the wrist and admonition to drink less, the temp holding cell is getting rather full due to the extra DUIs and people being too out of it to think before waving around guns in public spaces.

He hopes Bella has been having more fun, at least. The last text he got from her was a message from Jessica Stanley, telling him she’d be staying with her overnight since it was too late to safely drive back home.

 _Good_ , he thinks. _The kid might as well stay with her friends instead of being up on her laptop all night._

Deputy Veronica Huang stops him at the coffee machine while he’s brewing a new batch (well, a new batch the way he likes it, at least).

She stops short, wrinkling her nose. “Jesus, Charlie, that smells like it could strip paint.”

“It’d better,” Charlie says grimly, watching it stream through the filter. “I’m still here until six. You get off at four?”

She crosses her arms. “Thank God I do; it’s a mess in here. But before I go, the SPD sent out an update to that missing person alert. The girl from last month, remember?”

As if he could forget. Even if his workload could help him forget, Bella conveniently helps him to think of her whenever he overhears her and her friends working on the research project that they’re incredibly bad at hiding from him. “It’s for history class”, _suuuure_.

“They found her?” he asks, reaching for the filled coffee pot.

“They found her body in a dumpster,” Veronica says flatly. “And what’s more, two high school girls near where they found her never returned home after telling their parents they were going trick-or-treating earlier tonight. Had they been a bit older, I doubt their parents would have reported them missing as soon as they did. I’m thinking Seattle may have another serial killer on their hands.”

“One with a very particular taste,” Charlie says, relying on his desensitization training to not feel queasy at the thought of such a killer targeting Bella or her friends. “I’ll make sure the new alerts go up around town and talk to the school about some possible safety training for the students.” Not that he thinks Bella really needs it, but he’d feel better if she didn’t visit Seattle without an American-specific refresher on the basics. Sorta like the strange mace can he still clips to his belt, even though the others in the precinct tease him about it. (“It makes my daughter feel better when I wear it, and it’s less lethal than a gun,” he points out whenever they make comments.)

“Well, I’m heading out then,” Veronica says, covering a yawn with a hand as she strolls away. “Oh, and you should know this ‘cause it’s kinda funny, but the non-emergency line got a bunch of calls a while back about hearing wolves near the Olympic and La Push? Wolves returning on Halloween, what are the odds?”

Charlie chuckles, drinking more of his coffee. _What are the odds indeed?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This was a long af chapter to write, clocking in at about 6k words, omg.  
> \- Of course I had to write a Halloween chapter with drama going down. What kinda Buffy fan would I be otherwise?  
> \- Look, Buffy's group was called the Scooby Gang; it just made sense to take advantage to make the next generation dress up like the Scooby-Doo Gang as an homage of sorts.  
> \- The Quileute keep their traditionally long hair in this chapter and there is no made-up Cold Ones bullshit behind their werewolf genetics and I stand by that okay. Also, speaking of bullshit, Emily has had enough of it (you do NOT wanna know how her Halloween has been going) and needs a very long nap, poor girl.  
> \- The next Halloween with a full moon is actually in 2020 but shhhhh, fanfic doesn't listen to silly things like irl astronomy!  
> \- Re: Bella being rather confused about the werewolves: 1. she's not really all that sober in the latter part of this chapter (alcohol AND edibles, y'all; personally as a healthcare worker I can't recommend the combo, especially not as depicted in this chapter but teenagers gonna experiment, okay), and 2. she's smart but not wise.  
> \- There's a famous Jefferson Airplane lyric quoted in this chapter and yes, it's very much related to what happens in this chapter. >.>  
> \- The mace convo is entirely for Myth979, who came up with the concept of holy water-infused mace for this fic in our DMs. <3


	6. Monsters and Murders

_[Unauthorized charting note accessed at 11-1-2020 4:13 AM by STUDENT_AC]_

**Date:** 09/23/2020

 **HPI:** Bella Swan is a pleasant 17-year-old female presenting today for a physical examination following a MVA.

 **Subjective:** Miss Swan was narrowly missed by a passenger van in a parking lot and thrown to the ground against her own vehicle by a classmate in the process. Reports being in good health, with no major injuries. Reported last menstrual period 9/1/19. Denies current sexual activity, nicotine consumption, alcohol use, or illicit drug use. Described a healthy, well-balanced diet of three meals and two snacks daily, drinks three cups of coffee “and sometimes an energy drink if I need it”. Estimated herself as performing 450 minutes of aerobic exercise and 120 minutes of resistance training weekly.

**Objective:**

Ht: 65"

Wt: 137 lb

BMI: 22.8

BP: 104/72 mmHg

HR: 42 bpm

O2 Sat: 99%

**Physical Assessment:** Small scrapes from asphalt noted on palms of hands that were cleaned and bandaged during the encounter. Large bruise forming on right knee where patient fell. Reflexes normal. All other physical s/sx WNL.

**Plan:**

  * Keep palms of hands clean by washing regularly with soap and water.
  * Vaccines: Up to date per patient except for annual influenza and MenB.
  * Follow-up: Schedule annual physical with PCP.



Signed,  
Carlisle Cullen, MD

* * *

Bella's crush and vampire-hunter-in-arms is a werewolf. Aka a creature of the night. Aka a big furry problem. Aka not exactly the ideal love interest for a Slayer, per the Watchers, other Slayers, humans, and anyone with a remote sense of self-preservation skills.

And yet, Bella can’t tear her eyes away from the way Leah’s hair shines in the moonlight, the endearingly sweet way she looks wrapped up in the blanket.

Her heart thuds in her ears as their eyes meet and she knows it’s not just from the adrenaline rush coupled with recreational drug use.

_This is fine._

Objectively, Bella knows there is such a thing as friendly werewolves who hate vampires as much as she does. Even the legendary Buffy Summers worked with one for a time. And besides growling, this pack hasn't done anything to harm humans besides giving some very stoned teenagers a fright. Intimidating Edward when he grabbed her was more of a friendly gesture, to be honest.

(She absentmindedly rubs her wrist, wondering if it'll bruise. Slayer or not, her freakishly pale skin bruises as easily as an apple.)

That aside, there’s an entire pack of _very_ youthful werewolves living within a human community and the Watchers are not going to like that one bit.

“I—” she begins to say to Leah, then realizing she doesn’t quite know what to say, and closes her mouth. She waves her hand vaguely at Leah and Jacob. “Werewolves,” she says stupidly, brain feeling very blank ( _which she rather had coming after getting cross-faded_ , a voice that sounds suspiciously like Giles whispers).

“Yeah, isn’t it the _coolest?_ ” Jacob exclaims, seemingly not bothered at all by the autumn cold while barefoot in a borrowed T-shirt and pair of basketball shorts. “I can’t wait to tell Dad!”

“If he doesn’t find out from the panicking teenagers who just left,” mutters the oldest-looking man of the Quileute, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties. He scowls in the direction Angie and the girls took to walk back to the Stanley’s.

Something instinctive and almost primal jumps in Bella at the way the man looks at the humans’ trail, as if he’s itching to follow it and stop them. She steps in front of him, crossing her arms and glaring until he stares at her instead of over her head.

“Leave them be. They’re on _that_ side of the Olympic and so they’re _my_ problem to deal with if they decide to blab their mouths off about what they saw.”

“I don’t take orders from you, _Slayer_ ,” the man growls, taking a defensive stance.

“Sam, _stop it_ ,” says Leah, placing a hand on his shoulder. “If Bella says she’ll deal with the humans, then she’ll deal with them, okay? You don’t need to deal with every _damn_ problem you see.”

“I do if it concerns my _pack_ , Lee-Lee,” Sam says, but he visibly relaxes at her touch; something soft and private passes between them as he meets Leah’s eyes for a moment.

It’s stupid to feel a stab of jealousy while watching them because _of course_ Leah and Sam know each other well, they grew up in the same tribe and the same _area_ for fuck’s sake, it’s none of Bella’s business to bloody _care_ that Leah shares something with Sam that she doesn’t share with her.

But still.

A dark feeling roils in her stomach.

"So tell me if I'm understanding this correctly," Mike says, stumbling over to Bella, Jess, and Leah and eyeing with no small amount of wariness. "Jess is a witch, the rest of y'all are werewolves, Bella is a Slayer— _whatever that is_ —and her weird lab partner apparently likes to wander the Olympic in the middle of the night. And assuming this is not some elaborate Halloween joke, would anyone please explain for the normal humans what the hell is going on?"

Jess inspects her nails, squinting at the chips on them in the fading moonlight. "Look, the witch thing isn't really that big of a deal. Wiccans and Washington practically go hand in hand."

"You made pink sparklies. With. Your. _Hands_ ," Tyler points out.

She shrugs. "I'm just lucky it's so close to the sabbat that I could do something if needed. I'm not as into the whole witch thing as my aunts are. Honestly, it really doesn't come up that much."

"But you _could_ do something more powerful if you wanted?" Bella asks, eyeing Jess's now sparkle-free hands.

She shrugs again. "Sure. Probably. Can't say I've ever had to face werewolves in the forest after eating edibles before. Speaking of, what kind of Slayer are you, going off in the woods after getting crossfaded?"

"The kind who has a supernatural mystery to solve," the Slayer says, crossing her arms.

Something seems to click for Jess. "The missing Seattle girl."

Bella nods.

"Excuse me, Slayer? Werewolves? Explanations so we can go home, please?" Mike waves his hands in front of Bella and Jess. "Let's focus?"

Bella rolls her eyes and puts her stake back in its harness. "Bella Swan, Vampire Slayer and occasional Slayer of other non-friendly supernaturals. Nice to meet you. Again."

"Vampires are _real?!_ " Eric squeaks.

"Dude, you're currently surrounded by a pack of werewolves," Jacob points out.

“Yeah, but you haven’t killed any of us yet, so I figure you’re one of the _good ones_.”

Jacob raises his eyebrows, frowning. “Well, that’s a really fucked up way of phrasing it.”

Eric has the good sense to drop his eyes and scuff a foot sheepishly. “Well, anyway, you seem more Teen Wolf than Underworld Lycan, anyway, _pleasedon’tkillmethanks._ ”

“Sorry, I’m still not understanding what a Slayer is.” Mike has his hand awkwardly raised like a small schoolboy.

"I stab evil beings with a sharp piece of wood and also some MMA. It's _really_ glamorous," Bella says drily.

There's a strangled sound from Leah, as if she's trying to muffle a laugh.

Bella rounds on her, quirking a brow, and turns to eye Jacob as he moves closer to them. "And you both _also_ have a lot of explaining to do. Since when are all of you werewolves and why the hell didn't you think it was relevant to warn your local Slayer before I attacked any of you?"

Jacob rubs the back of his neck. "I only found out when we shifted tonight. Honest, Bella. Also, you're a Slayer? That explains your Bootcamp-level workout and all."

"I still need to know why the hell there are werewolves in La Push." She crosses her arms. "And I thought it was bad enough with a vampire family hunting in the area." Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Eric mouth something to Tyler that looks a bit like, “ _Vampires?! Here?!”_

"The werewolves and vampires aren't mutually exclusive, Bella," says Emily, swaying a little on her feet, eyelids drooping. Seth rushes over to steady her. "Didn't they teach you that in Slayer school?"

"I'm starting to think they forgot a few key lessons," Bella admits. "For example, it should literally be impossible for you all to be human while the full moon is up."

"Except, you're thinking of white people werewolves," Emily says bluntly. "Billy told me indigenous werewolves are not the same, even between tribes."

"Billy? Billy Black?" Bella repeats, bemused, at the same time Jacob exclaims, "My dad already knows I'm a _werewolf?!_ "

Emily yawns. "There's only one Billy in La Push. But yeah. He sent me after y'all with clothes and blankets when he heard of Quileute kids shifting into wolves when the moon came up. Said it had happened before. A long time ago when the vampires last lived in Forks."

"I don't see how that even makes sense, but _okay_ ," Bella sighs. She steps forward so she can stare down Jacob, big sister-style, and with a brief shock, she realizes he looks a couple of inches taller since she saw him last. They stare at each other, eye-to-eye. Her little brother is literally growing up. "Jacob, what the hell happened tonight?"

He squirms a little under her gaze. "I dunno, Bella. Seth and me were gaming after going trick-or-treating and next thing I knew, I went all wolf and knew I had to join the pack in the forest." He cocks his head to the side, as if listening. "Sam, you can stop telling me to shut up. Bella is a friend; she's not gonna shoot us all with silver bullets... Are you?" He asks her, suddenly unsure.

“As if I even have the cash for silver bullets,” she snorts. “And no. Might as well have more supers around in case the Cullens try to start some shit.” She winces as soon as she realizes what she said.

Mike’s jaw drops. “Wait, you knew why Edward Cullen was wandering the forest _this entire time?_ ”

“Um, yes? Ish. Maybe?”

"Alright, we definitely need to talk about whatever else you're keeping secrets about, Bella. We're your friends, for fuck's sake!"

"I don't need to tell you any more of my secrets than what you already know," Bella tells him firmly. "I have to keep others safe."

"And what are we, werewolf and vampire bait?" Eric puts his hands on his hips, looking more upset by the minute. "I'd like to know if something out here wants to eat me and not in the fun way, no offense," he adds to Sam.

"Don't flatter yourself," Sam snorts.

A chilly autumn breeze shushes the pine needles littering the clearing. Bella shivers in her Velma turtleneck, regretting her spur-of-the-moment decision to leave behind her coat and scarf at the Stanley’s. 

"Right," Jess says, rubbing her hands together. "It's entirely too late and too fucking cold. Let's crash at my parents’ place and then figure things out in the morning?"

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Emily snorts, tossing her backpack and remaining blankets to Sam, who catches them easily and follows her lead after Jessica, even though he doesn’t look pleased about it.

Bella sighs internally, resigning herself to a long night of werewolf monitoring duty. Even Jacob’s reassuring smile isn’t enough to stop the way her stomach churns, already dreading what the Watchers might tell her to do.

* * *

Jess texts Angie, Jamila, and Marie on the way to make sure they got home safely, even sharing their replies with Bella so she can stop worrying about Sam trying anything under her nose, which sort of helps Bella to relax and sort of doesn’t. After all, they’re still strolling in the woods with a pack of werewolves on Samhain and that seems like less and less of a decision Giles would approve of as the edibles start to wear off.

Bella isn't the keenest on having a slumber party with werewolves, even friendly ones, but is too tired to care about anything other than having a warm place to sleep for the night. (Admittedly, a part of her wants to ask Leah and Emily more about the differences between indigenous and European werewolves, but that can wait until she can think more clearly.)

The boys and men spread out in the living room and guest rooms on the ground floor while the girls take Jess's room on the upper level.

Emily and Jess double up in her bed while Bella and Leah take an air mattress on the floor. Emily flops on her chosen side of the bed before Jess even locks the door behind them.

"I'm sleeping for at least twelve hours, nobody wake me up before 4 PM," Emily announces, burrowing into one of the spare blankets she brought from La Push and wrapping a pillow over her head.

"What a mood," Jess says, unzipping her fluorescent purple go-go heels.

Bella tamps down her nervousness about sharing a bed for a night with a girl she finds ridiculously attractive with a mental reminder that said hot girl is also a werewolf and Probably Straight and also as a Slayer, Bella is sort of ostensibly sharing with her to protect the two humans sharing the room with them. Not that Leah seems like the sort to go on a werewolf rampage but still. Bella can stop her from going feral if necessary. (She hopes.)

Leah pulls her legs up to her chest on the mattress, amusement on her face as she looks at the other girls. "So. A human, a were-girl, a witch, and a Slayer. Interesting that we all happened to run into each other tonight."

Jess quirks a brow. "Well, it's not as if any of us planned on revealing our supernatural sides tonight. I just wanted a Halloween party."

"What I don't get," Bella starts, "is how we've been researching supernatural weirdness in this area for _weeks_ and you didn't think it was relevant to mention your witchcraft."

Said witch stifles a rather unwitchy yawn and reaches over to flip the light switch near the bed. "My aunts would love it if I wore the whole robe-and-crystal getup more often, but it really isn’t my style. Anyway, I’m getting some beauty sleep; don’t stay up too late, kids.”

She joins Emily in burying her head under a pillow, leaving Bella and Leah to awkwardly stare at each other.

Bella whispers to break the silence. “You planning on staying human all night?”

The room is very dark, except for a kitschy nightlight in the shape of a fairy that casts odd shadows on the walls and Leah’s face, but Bella doesn’t think she’s imagining the mischievous look in Leah’s warm eyes.

“What, afraid of a little fur, Slayer?”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Bella lies. “Well, most things. But I’d also rather not have to stake someone who hates vampires as much as I do.”

Leah makes an odd-sounding hum. “Hmm, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Say what?”

“That I hate vampires as much as you do. I just don’t like it when they intrude on indigenous lands.”

Bella’s eyebrows shoot high. “What is there even to like about vampires? They’re stuffy oversized leeches without even any health benefits.”

“The one I made out with definitely can’t be described as ‘stuffy’,” Leah tells her with a touch of reproach underlying her tone.

 _Well._ That wasn’t exactly the defense of vampires Bella was expecting. In her shock, she forgets to keep her voice down as she squeaks, _“You kissed one of them?!”_

“It was Seattle Pride. Alice was a cute date before I knew who she really was.” Leah shrugs. “Shit happens.”

 _“You made out with Alice?!”_ Bella squeaks, her mind warring between horror at Leah having kissed vampires and elation that Leah is actually not, in fact, a Straight Girl.

“I _dated_ Alice,” Leah corrects. “It used to be pretty common knowledge for all the small-town gossips around here. We were out and proud, then she showed her secret and I showed my dislike of big age gaps and we mutually decided to go Splitsville and put it all behind us, dead animals and turf issues aside.”

 _“Splitsville,”_ Bella repeats incredulously. _Alice the Vampire is my crush’s ex, a CULLEN is my crush’s ex,_ her brain inanely loops on repeat.

“Geeze, keep it down, you two,” Jess grumbles from the bed. “Can’t you just discuss your weird relationships with the undead in the morning?”

“It _is_ morning,” Leah tells her sweetly, making a show of fluffing a pillow, and is rewarded with a decently passable snarl for a non-werewolf witch.

Thoroughly unnerved by how little she knows about the girl sharing a bed with her, Bella flips on her side to face the wall instead. As sleep begins to steal over her at last, she promises herself that this conversation with Leah is far from over. She’ll figure out what other secrets the scheming were-girl is keeping, no matter what Slayer abilities she has to lean on to do so. _But now you know she’s not straight and you are **definitely** close enough in the bed to make a move on her if you wanted,_ a traitor voice whispers, a voice she rudely smothers with highly mood-killing thoughts of what the Watchers would say if she ever admitted to an interest in a _werewolf_ of all potential partners.

* * *

Bella wakes up with the sun shining directly in her eyes, feeling warm. Almost uncomfortably warm. She shifts her arms to stretch and her fingers brush against bare skin that’s feverishly hot.

As if branded, she jumps away, belatedly realizing that it’s _Leah_ she’s touching (and somehow rolled closer to during the night) and _Leah_ is the source of all that lovely warmth. _And could be a continued source of lovely warmth if you asked to spoon_ , the traitor voice in her head whispers. She grits her teeth, determined to shut that voice up before she gets into even more trouble with the Watchers than stumbling into a local werewolf-vampire drama during the singular year she was supposed to live a quiet human life with her quiet human father.

The seventeen-year-old-with-a-not-quiet-life kicks off the blankets and stomps downstairs to make herself coffee and something plant-based before she does something incredibly stupid.

“Good morning, Bella!” Eric says at a level of cheeriness that should be illegal after a night of Halloween revelry, clutching a mug of coffee at the breakfast nook that Bella zeroes in on like a hawk on a rodent. His eyes widen as he takes in her pre-caffeine appearance. “ _Woah,_ Bella, what even happened upstairs with you girls?”

She glares at his insinuation and makes a beeline for the (blessedly) filled coffee pot, grabbing the first mug she blindly grabs from an open cupboard, filling it to the brim, and swigging it like water. She pulls a face. It’s not as strong as the way Charlie makes it, but it’ll have to do.

A warm arm is thrown around her shoulders and, thinking of Leah, she almost drops her coffee before she hears Jacob chirp, “Bella! This is just like our old slumber parties when we were kids.”

Bella stifles a snort and sits next to Eric. “Sure, though I don’t remember having werewolf packs around when I was six.”

Jacob’s bright smile disappears for a moment before he replaces it with a knowing grin. “Oh, but didn’t you hear? Sam and the others trooped out earlier. It’s just Seth and me left. Um, and Leah,” he adds as the aforementioned werewolf strolls into the kitchen, looking unfairly put-together for someone who just woke up at a quarter to three by Bella’s watch. (Seriously, someone who was running around in the woods all night has no right to have hair that glossy-looking and a distinct absence of circles under her eyes. Her _niceness_ is a painfully direct contrast to Bella, who is both rocking a bedhead _and_ raccoon eyes.)

“Coffee?” Bella asks her when she sits on Bella’s other side. Breakfast small talk will, at the very least, keep her from saying impulsive nonsense in front of Eric and Jacob such as, “You were really warm in bed last night” or “So, about the fact that you date girls…”

“Ugh, no, just green tea for now if that’s even an option, thanks,” Leah says, slumping over the table. Bella tries not to focus too much on the way her spine curves. “I feel like my muscles were reorganizing themselves all night.”

“I mean, they kind of were,” Jacob points out, rummaging through the Stanley’s pantry until he locates a tea bag, nixing the need for Bella to move, which suits her just fine. Not moving sounds very fine, especially fine with Leah practically cozying up next to her.

The others blearily straggle in as Bella finishes her first cup of coffee and pours another. She probably ought to check her phone and let Charlie know she’s okay and still at the Stanleys, but then again, it’s all the way up the stairs and _ugh_ , no thank you.

Jess and Seth decide to make pancakes for everyone and Bella basks in a haze of caffeine and relative calm while the others chatter around her in the breakfast nook. As usual, Eric can’t be pried from his phone as soon as Tyler hands it to him and whoops and feeds everyone commentary as he catches up on everything he missed on social media. 

“Ooh, you’ve gotta see the group costume the marching band all wore last night; it’s rad.”

“Damn, someone tee-peed the Wright’s house last night! Wow, it even kinda looks artistic.”

“Hey, that Seattle girl case is in the news again— _oh no_.”

The dismay in his voice instantly wakes Bella up even more than the coffee or the simple carbohydrates.

“What is it?” she says, staring at him. He’s gone pale.

“She’s dead, Bella. Andrea DiStefano is dead,” Eric says, voice uncharacteristically solemn. Everyone around the table shuts up at that. “They found her body in Seattle. And then two more girls disappeared last night.”

Bella stiffens as she hears growling and it takes her a moment to realize it’s coming from Jacob. Luckily, he hasn’t shifted into a werewolf in the Stanley’s kitchen, but it’s still really unnerving to hear from someone who was giggling over TikToks with Seth only five minutes earlier. The others respond differently, some looking worried, some angry, and then Leah: Leah’s face is carefully blank. Bella raises her eyebrows at her and Leah sighs deeply.

“Whatever supernatural thing you’re thinking about the missing girls, I know for a fact the Cullens have nothing to do with it.”

“How do you know?” Bella asks.

“Because Carlisle would kill any member of his coven who violates their oath to target innocents. And Edward might be the lone cannon of the coven, but Seattle is too far away for him on foot, especially if he was wandering the Olympic before he found you.”

“Coven? Are the Cullens witches, too?” Eric shoots Jess a wary glance. “Did you get all your gossip about the Cullens from going to sabbats with them or whatever witches do?”

Jess rolls her eyes. “No. And no. They’re vampires. Obviously.”

“ _Vampires?!_ ” Mike yelps. “We go to school with _vampires?_ ”

“Yeah, honestly, I don’t get it either,” Jess drawls. “I figured it out about a month after they moved in. But other than eating animals, they’re chill, and they’re bigger than me so really not worth kicking up a fuss with my own coven. Why Carlisle and Esme want their kids to repeat public school over and over again for the rest of their immortality is beyond me. I feel like that technically qualifies as child abuse _and_ child endangerment, honestly.”

“Can CPS even be called for immortal vampire teenagers?” Jacob wonders.

“Hey, focus. Two missing girls, remember?” Bella says, leaning over the table. She asks Leah, “But you think a super might have killed Andrea?”

Leah shrugs. “Hard to say, honestly. Seattle’s kinda known for its human serial killers, too. But if you want to consider it a Slayer case, feel free. Just realize that it will absolutely not add any dirt to the Cullen’s burn book.”

_Okay then._

“Well, I’m still gonna ask them about whatever the hell that was last night,” Bella mutters.

“You can ask them sooner if you want,” Leah says, a wry smile twisting her full lips. “Alice texted me ‘cause she couldn’t get ahold of you earlier. She says, and I quote, ‘Have Bella meet us near the Cedar Loop trailhead.’ And daylight is burning, so…” Leah slips out of the breakfast nook seat so Bella can scoot out.

“Not that it matters much to vampires.” Bella stretches, willing herself to feel a bit more like a battle-ready Slayer.

“Wait, Bella, you aren’t seriously going to meet vampires alone in the forest,” Tyler says, standing as well. “We should go with you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Bella says. “I’ve been alone with them loads of times just fine. And anyway, I doubt they’ll say anything useful to me if they know humans are listening in. Sorry.”

Tyler looks like he might argue further with her, but Jess tugs at his sleeve until he sits down again, a grumpy wrinkle forming between his brows.

“Say hi to Alice for me!” Leah calls behind her back, and Bella doesn’t know whether to growl like Jacob or feel relieved that at least one person at the table doesn’t think meeting the Cullens will be a death sentence.

* * *

“She’s going to hate me,” Edward tells Alice at the trailhead. “She’ll return to her boarding school and never speak to me again.”

“That’s the third time you’ve said that in the past _hour_ ,” Alice replies, using her phone’s camera to adjust her hair. “As Rosalie would say, your existential crisis concerning the pretty human stopped being worthy of comment roughly, oh, _six weeks ago_. Let Bella decide for herself.”

A tense silence falls, broken only by the call of a magpie somewhere in the pines. The sky is an unusually clear blue for November, with only a few clouds scudding overhead. Perfect for a dramatic reveal. Edward grits his teeth. He hates everything about Alice’s stupid plan, but she _insisted_.

Something about watching his danger-prone mate for eternity from afar being unnatural. (Edward was content with tormenting himself by doing so but the rest of the coven was in agreement and practically shoved him out the door with Alice, so he had no choice but to go along with it.)

“But what do you see?” Edward presses Alice again. She’s been frustratingly mum about the future lately, either changing the conversation or saying Bella’s strange immunity to their powers is blocking her.

Alice yawns and adjusts her designer sunhat. “You deciding to attack her? Eh, maybe, like, 60% likely. 20% if I’m still hanging around. Oddly, I don’t see you eating her in any of these possibilities, so there’s a plus.” She fixes him with a glance. “Oh, and I don’t see the other kind of _eating_ , either.”

He frowns. Knowing Alice, she probably means something inappropriate and something that Edward would never do with his accursed immortality, no matter what his siblings like to get up to in their free time. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Alice says blithely.

“Quiet, I hear her,” Edward says, peeking eagerly down the road to look for the orange junker Bella drives. (If today goes smoothly, he promises himself he’ll gift her with something much safer. A Hummer would be a good choice. Maybe one from the army surplus.)

Bella pulls the truck practically to the trailhead itself and steps out, her expression impassive as she takes in the Cullens.

She’s _so close_. Close enough that her pulse throbs wetly in his ears and her alluring scent makes his mouth water. Edward swallows the sudden metallic taste in his mouth.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Bella asks him. “Do you just normally wander the Olympic looking for your classmates on Halloween?”

Such a foolish girl, his mate. How does she not know he was protecting her from those _beasts?_ He’d even let his prey go cold while he investigated the werewolves. (He’d still returned to drink it, anyway. Touching Bella had been too much for his hunger.)

“Not usually,” he murmurs.

“Hi Bella,” Alice says, waving her hand, a strained smile plastered on her face. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions and I totally promise to answer as many as I can later, but I really need you and Edward to talk.” She inclines her head at the trail. “Alone.”

 _“Alone?”_ Edward asks her, aghast.

“Well, I’ll be around, but hanging back to give you two some privacy,” she says with a wink. _Twenty percent_ , she thinks at him. _Try not to fuck this up, brother._

“I’m guessing it’s not about the bio lab report,” Bella sighs. It’s frustrating, really, how much of the obvious she misses about him. Fortunately, they’ll have plenty of time to rectify that. As soon as they talk.

Edward heads down the trail without another word, easily staying in the front, even when Bella tries to pass him. Who knows what kind of dangers Bella will get herself into this time if she goes ahead? That’s not happening on his watch this time, he promises.

 _You could maybe try talking to her,_ Alice thinks at him after about fifteen minutes of them walking quietly.

Edward ignores her.

After another five minutes of awkward silence, Bella finally breaks the ice by asking him again, “What were you doing in the Olympic last night?”

“I was hunting deer,” Edward murmurs.

Bella side-eyes him in a way that uncomfortably reminds him of Rosalie. “At three in the morning?”

“It’s easier then.” Edward shoves his hands in the pocket of his coat, wishing his immortality had even somewhat improved his ease with speaking. Why can’t he just show her what he means and gets it over with? It’s not like Bella will know him for the monster he really is with just talk, anyway.

He flips his collar up, as if to hide in it and escape this stupid, hare-brained idea. “Bella,” he begins haltingly. “We’ve been talking for a while now. But I think you still don’t know who I really am.”

Bella stops walking. Her large brown eyes momentarily flick back to Alice, who is watching them with no small amount of interest. _The moment of truth_ , she thinks at him.

“I know what you are,” she tells him levelly. (She doesn’t sound afraid, which he considers a good sign. If his heart could still beat, it would surely be racing right now.) “You’re even paler than I am. You avoid sunlight and prefer the evening hours. I’ve had coffee with you and your siblings about six times now and you still haven’t drunk or eaten anything that I’ve seen. Bloodless animal corpses follow wherever you and your family go. How old are you, _vampire?”_ She says the word with a lilt to her strange accent, as if tasting the word on her tongue.

“Seventeen,” he tells her.

“Bullshit,” she says. “How old are you, really?”

 _Be honest with her, Edward_ , Alice warns.

“I was turned in 1918.”

“Huh.”

 _“Huh?”_ Edward asks. Perhaps it was foolish of him to expect, but he was hoping for a stronger response than “huh” from his beloved finding out that he’s a supernatural blood drinker. A shocked expression with those pretty brown eyes blown wide. Maybe a fainting spell into his strong arms. He’d even settle for a gasp of surprise. This reaction is rather lackluster relative to the visions his fantasies have been feeding him for the past month and a half.

“Yeah, _huh_ ,” she says again, crossing her arms. “Your lot is not exactly good at hiding it. It’s pretty damned obvious.”

Alice giggles from behind them and Edward glares at her. _What? You’ll have to admit it’s a bit of an anti-climax._

Edward growls and whirls off the trail, aiming for a patch of sunlight he can see in the distance. Maybe Bella will react differently if she sees _this_. A series of stumbling crashing sounds and snapping twigs tells him she’s following behind him. _Good._

“The Watchers are never gonna let me leave Scotland ever again,” Bella mutters, just loudly enough that his hearing can pick it up, not that he understands what she means. What a strange girl.

He stops at the edge of the meadow, hating the bright harshness of the sun shining on the flowers. Hating his skin. Hating the desire that twists under his skin and urges him to take advantage of the woods and their privacy to press Bella up against a tree and drain her dry. “I must show you something,” he says bitterly.

“Geeze, dude, you don’t need to burn yourself to prove to me that you’re a vampire.” Bella watches him with an odd expression on her face. “I believe you are what you are.”

“Burning?” Edward asks, startled out of his self-hatred. “What burning?”

It’s Bella’s turn to look confused. “Well, I already know you don’t, uh, immediately die in sunlight. But I know you Cullens are basically allergic to it, right? That’s why you always skip school.”

“I’m not allergic to sunlight,” he says. He takes another look at the meadow, thinks, _To hell with it_ , and steps into the flowers, pulling off his shirt as he goes.

 _Did you really have to remove your shirt with me here?_ Alice sounds both amused and snarky.

He ignores her again in favor of staring at Bella, desperately trying to gauge her expression. This time, she actually does look surprised. Her mouth has opened in a small “o” and her eyes are wide as she stares at him, at his bare skin.

“Um, okay. Well,” she stammers. “Uh. That’s a new one for me. Hmm. I don’t know what to make of that.”

“This is the skin of a killer, Bella. I’m a killer.” He can’t help it. As much as he wants her, he also wants her to understand the curse he lives under. Alice must be wrong; it would be far better to protect his human from afar and never do something so stupid ever again.

“Killer of animals, or killer of humans?” she asks him, expression impassive again.

“Uh.”

 _Uh-oh_ , thinks Alice.

Her eyes narrow and, absurdly, she steps forward into the clearing. She immediately winces as soon as she’s close enough to touch him. “Ugh, _wow,_ the sparkling is even brighter out of the shade. _Ouch._ ”

“I’ve only killed animals for the past few decades,” he whispers.

“What about outside of those decades?” Bella asks flatly, stepping further into his space, and he’s sure, so sure that this is the point where she tells him to go to Hell with the other vampires and then disappears from his life forever.

“There were some men a very long time ago. _Human monsters_ ,” he says with a grimace. “The world was better off with them.”

“I promise he hasn’t drunk blood from humans in a very long time,” Alice calls from the forest. “He’s a real vegetarian like the rest of us.”

 _“Vegetarian?”_ Bella looks like she’s struggling to fight a laugh. “ _Bunnicula_ is a vegetarian. You’re just consuming animals that aren’t humans. You’re humanitarian vampires. Or on second thought, whatever not-humanitarian is. Something like that.”

Edward doesn’t know what to say to that, so he puts his shirt on.

(“Oh, thank gods, my eyes were tearing up,” she mutters, which is a strange thing for his mate to say about seeing him indecently for the first time. Perhaps she meant tearing up from the strong feelings evoked by his predatory chest. It would be only natural to be taken in by a vampiric predator’s horrifically alluring beauty and the immortal future it presents to a human mate, after all.)

Across the way, Alice gives him a thumbs up and mouths, “ _Bond._ ”

“Bella,” Edward says, “You should know that we have a unique connection to each other.”

“Uh, yeah, I figured,” Bella said, looking down. It’s hard to tell if she’s doing that from maidenly shyness or for another reason.

“No, you don’t understand, it’s about my being a vampire.”

“Actually, I think I do understand quite well,” she says, fingers brushing over the front of her coat.

She doesn’t get it. She absolutely doesn’t, she _can’t_ , not with a reaction as calm as the one she’s having. No one could ever be so calm with an everlasting curse tightening around them as surely as a noose.

He digs his hands into his hair, ruining the pompadour that took a solid hour to style this morning, and huffs in frustration. What he feels for Bella is more than simple bloodlust; he knows it. It’s an eternal _wanting_ , a deep-seated hunger, a _mine to protect_. And the only way this ends without her lying beneath him in a pool of her own blood is admitting the reality:

“We have a vampiric mating bond.”

“Uh.” Bella looks at a loss for words. “What?”

“You’re my destined mate. When it is the right time, I’ll turn you and we’ll be vampires together forever.” _Dooming her to a cursed existence forever_ , his conscience adds silently.

“Okay, so I don’t understand.” Bella drags her hands down her face. “I’m destined to be your vampy… _mate?_ There’s no way that’s right, unless the universe has a very twisted sense of humor. You? And me? _Mates?_ Like in those weird erotica novels? No fucking way.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so rude about it,” Edward says coldly. “It’s destiny. You can’t fight destiny.”

She mutters something that Edward thinks might have been, “ _Watch me_.”

“We can go to my father today to make it official and then plan for the bond sealing ceremony in the future, as is proper.” He imagines how beautiful Bella would look in a white dress, kneeling across from him as his father binds them for eternity and he can finally, at last, find out what mysteries are in that pretty little head of hers. Perhaps then he might stop worrying so much about her frequent personal endangerment with an immortally cursed, far from fragile body.

Bella bursts out laughing. “Oh my gods,” she says between her bouts of chuckling. “ _Oh, my gods._ My rich boy vampiric lab partner is practically proposing to me. _ME._ Of all the fucking curveballs this year has thrown at me, oh my gods.” She’s settled into giggling now, wiping away the tears rolling down her face.

Why are women ever so difficult to read? Edward asks tentatively, “So, you’ll agree to it?”

“Ha, are you fucking kidding me, Edward? Of course I won’t. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard all day and let me tell you, it has already been a wild twenty-four hours as-is.”

“Why not?” he asks, suddenly affronted at her flat rejection of his protection plan that gives them everything they want. Bella gains eternal life and a wealthy husband; he gets to desire her up close without shutting those lovely eyes forever. It’s the best solution to their little problem, especially as Edward has no chance of being human ever again.

Bella pinches the bridge of her nose. “Edward. I’m a lesbian. There is absolutely zilch chance that I’ll ever want to be your mate.”

 _Oh_ , Alice thinks.

“I don’t understand,” says Edward, thoughts whirling.

“Google it,” Bella snaps, and stalks off in the direction of the trail, leaving him frozen and still-sparkling under the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Miss me? 2020 has been really kicking my ass lately with various life things going on, so I hope you all are doing well. Writing this chapter took forever, even though I basically started on it right after wrapping up chapter 5.  
> \- Yes, we are indeed slowly getting closer to more action. Until then, enjoy the character derpiness this chapter features.  
> \- Gee, I wonder who could be logging on to an electronic health record so late at night to snoop? ;)


	7. The Cadaverous Curveball

**On the Care of the Adolescent Slayer: Advice in Brief from Dr. Rupert Giles:**

‘All too often, I hear from Watchers who feel shocked and dismayed when their Slayer displays behaviors more aligned with teenage rebellion than one might expect of a supernatural savior of the world. When they turn to me, they ask, “How can I make the Slayers act more mature? More restrained? More aligned with what we think is best for them?”

And to that, I answer: You might think of your charge as a superhero. Or perhaps a soldier. To many of you, they are the flesh and blood embodiment of the fight against darkness and evil and they are born with the martial skills to do just that, given time, education, and a fair bit of coaching.

However, the Slayer psyche develops in a strikingly similar pattern to all human children, adolescence included. A Slayer may have developed the strength to overpower several grown adults or vampires by the time they reach puberty, but _that does not mean_ they have developed the emotional reasoning skills and practicality of several grown adults.

From one Watcher to another, take note: To better protect and watch over your Slayer during their turbulent teenage years, keep an open avenue of communication and build rapport, lest your charge roam the crypts without you…

~ _Handbook for Watchers_ , pg. 54

* * *

“I agree,” is all Bella can think to tell Leah when she returns to the Stanley’s, not quite ready to process her vampiric lab partner’s impromptu marriage proposal. (Jess made herself scarce during Bella’s hike, apparently to go back to sleep.)

“Agree on what?” Leah asks, a worry line furrowing her brows. Her collarbones are visible above the neckline of the oversized T-shirt Emily gave her and it is making the game of “Keep Your Eyes Above the Pretty Girl’s Nose” incredibly challenging.

“The Cullens have nothing to do with kidnapping girls, much less killing them.” Bella clutches her third mug of coffee like a lifeline, willing it to help her make sense of the last day. She sips it, pulling a face. _Still too weak._ “Edward’s the wild card of the bunch but quite frankly, I think he’s too stupid to murder a bunch of teenagers and still play human in Forks.”

Someone sputters in the breakfast nook behind her. “Edward has a four-point-oh GPA and is in the _Honors Society_ ,” Mike says, sounding scandalized.

Bella sighs, “And yet, I believe he has an _infinite_ potential for growth.” She gulps the rest of her coffee, enjoying the comforting burn in her stomach. November in Washington feels far colder than in southern Scotland. “Why are you all still here, anyway?” she asks the cluster of classmates crowded around the table with their phones.

After what seems like a quick conversation amongst themselves via eye contact, Tyler speaks up: “Sheesh, Bella, were we just supposed to sleep off seeing werewolves and witches in the flesh and forget about it in time for school on Monday?”

“Also, the missing girls,” Eric adds. “What are we gonna do about them?”

“Excuse me, lads, there is no ‘ _we’_ ,” Bella says firmly. “Last I checked, you’re human boys. You not only lack superpowers, but also the training to take on any sort of threat. If I’m making this case Slayer business, what I mean is that it’s _my_ business, _capiche?_ ”

Tyler raises his hand. “I know Brazilian jiu-jitsu,” he offers.

“ _No_.”

“Hey, werewolf,” Mike calls to Leah, who’s quietly observing them from the kitchen. “What’s your say in this? Don’t you want to use your wolf superpowers to get rid of a creeper who’s killing girls in your backyard?”

Leah smiles, all teeth, and Bella fights down her urge to fixate on her face because _holy fuck_ , she has _dimples_. “Well, like Bella said, it _is_ Slayer business.” She chuckles. “Also, if werewolves wanted a say, she couldn’t keep a pack out of it even if she tried, unlike you three dunderheads. She’d wipe the floor with you.”

Bella looks away before Leah demolishes her completely with, like, a wink or something. _Stupid sexy werewolves._

“Well, if you’re not going to use our help, then what’s your plan, Bella?” Mike demands. “Waltz into Seattle on your own?”

“ _Actually_ , I’m going to talk to the people who have a say in Slayer matters, like I’m _supposed_ to do,” she tells him primly. (Of course, there’s the not unlikely chance that both Charlie and Giles refuse to take her concerns seriously, but she’ll cross that bridge when she comes to it. At any rate, she _always_ has back-up plans. Plans that will _definitely_ involve sleuthing police files.)

Jess loudly stomps down the stairs and glares at them, clad in a fluffy pink robe with a sleep mask pulled into her hair like one of her characteristic headbands. “Excuse me,” she grits out, “some people are _trying_ to sleep here and this is, in fact, _my_ house so kindly shut up, get the fuck out, and go home, _please_.”

Muttering sheepish apologies, the boys troop out, Leah and Bella wisely following behind. No one wants to get hexed by a cranky witch.

Outside in the November chill, Bella hesitates. “Would you like a ride?” she asks Leah, feeling as flat-footed and awkward as the night before when they shared a bed.

Leah rewards her with yet another dimpled smile that gives Bella those stupid fluttery butterflies in her stomach. “I won’t say no to your offering.”

The initial leg of the drive to La Push is silent, as the radio in Bella’s truck had likely been broken since around the time of her parents’ unfortunate marriage. Although Bella had adapted to most of the American style of driving within a month of her move from Scotland, she’s still uncertain of rural roads. She clenches her jaw and resists the urge to glance at her passenger, although she senses Leah’s eyes on her more than once.

“So…” Leah begins after the silence between them becomes uncomfortable.

“So?” Bella asks, allowing herself a momentary sideways glance. Leah fiddles with her phone in her lap, but her expression is positively mischievous. _Oh, gods, she’s on to me_. _She’s going to realize I have the most stupid crush and that it’s even worse when you know there’s a chance and also I’ve been spending the last two months trying not to be a predatory creep like Edward and now she has a superpower that apparently destroys clothes and then we shared a bed last night and basically cuddled but what if her pack decides they don’t need help from a Slayer—_

“So,” Leah repeats, interrupting Bella’s internal rambling. “What happened on the hike?”

_Oh gods, the hike. Edward Cullen, Sparklepire._ It’s not as if Leah doesn’t know how weird the Cullens are as vampire locals as-is, but Bella hasn’t quite processed _how_ weird as of yet today. “Alice says ‘hi’.” How exactly does one explain that their crush’s ex helped their lab partner propose marriage and eternal vampirism while shirtless in a meadow?

Leah pokes Bella in the shoulder. “That’s not a full answer to my question.”

Bella studies the road ahead. Cracked asphalt has never looked so fascinating. “Erm. They told me they are vampires.”

“Uh-huh. And?”

“Then Edward took off his shirt.”

“Uh… Okay, that’s weird. Really, really weird, considering that he’s who knows how old and you’re, what, sixteen?”

“ _Seventeen_ , as of last September,” Bella corrects, blushing. “And yeah, he’s over a hundred years old.”

“Big yikes.” Leah is staring at her again. “He didn’t touch you or anything, did he?” she asks worriedly.

Bella sighs. “No, he didn’t. He wanted to show me that he doesn’t burn in the sun or something.”

“Well, _good_ ,” Leah says. “Otherwise, risking a vampire war or not, the pack would’ve needed to pay him a visit.”

That a werewolf pack would pick a fight for a Slayer over a vampire being inappropriate makes the air in the truck suddenly feel warmer and more suffocating, as if a blanket has been wrapped around her. She squirms in embarrassment. “Erm, thank you? _AndthenEdwardCullensortaproposedmarriage_ ,” she rambles. 

There’s a clatter of a phone falling to the floor. “He did _what?!_ ” Leah yelps.

“He, uh, also apparently wants to make me a vampire so I can be his bride for eternity.”

“Thanks, I hate it. What did you tell him? ‘I’m a Slayer and eternal ass-kicker of your kind; go back to your bat cave?’”

Despite living through one of the longest and strangest days of her young life and no end to her troubles in sight, Bella grins. _Fuck it, the door was already down anyway._ “No, I just let him know I’m actually a card-carrying lesbian.”

Bella rides the high of hearing Leah’s peals of laughter all the way into the evening, when it is abruptly shattered by Andrea DiStefano’s autopsy report.

* * *

Charlie spends most of the first week of November elbows-deep in conducting Fork’s response to the _Seattle Disappearances_ , as they’re starting to be called by the local news. As it turns out, he doesn’t even need to cajole the local high school administration into organizing a joint safety campaign with the local police department because the school calls the station _first_ to request his help. Between scheduling self-defense training sessions and posting new information about the disappearances around town, Charlie sees more of his office than his home.

Thus, it’s quite the shock when he returns home one afternoon and finds Bella hauling a large canvas bag in her arms, carefully pouring a white and crystalline substance in a line on the ground outside of the house. His prized tool shed appears to have already received the same treatment, he bemusedly notes.

“Uh, Bells?” he calls. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Making a salt circle,” she says, matter-of-fact.

He squints. “Okay… _but why?_ ”

Bella sets down the bag. “Oh, just to keep out all of my handsome vampire beaus.” It’s really unsettling, the way her sarcasm uncannily reminds him of his ex-wife.

“Can I assume this has something to do with the girls in Seattle?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips. “Because, you know, if you’re worried about someone attacking you,” he waves his hands at the salt, “a bit of a refresher might come in handy.”

“Oh, you’re too funny,” she retorts, continuing her work. “Though you should probably know that those self-defense classes your cops have been running are going to be nothing better than a placebo effect if what’s taking the girls is what I think it is.”

“Uh-huh. And why do you say that?”

“I read the full report on Andrea DiStefano. Do you seriously think a few well-placed kicks and elbows will be enough against anything that drains all the blood from a child?”

Charlie trots across the yard to catch up with her, careful not to displace the line. He gently takes the bag from her arms. He tries not to flinch at the anger in her gaze. “You weren’t supposed to read those things,” he says quietly. “It’s not meant for those who aren’t in this line of work.”

“But _this is my work,_ ” Bella insists, eyes flashing. “She died of hemorrhagic shock without any notable trauma wounds, save for a punctured carotid. Her body was _shriveled._ Whoever killed her and dump her body managed to bypass multiple security cameras without any trouble.” She drags a hand through her hair. “The moment it crossed from standard police procedural to the supernatural was when it became _Slayer_ business. And yet,” she says, shoving him in the chest, “as my Watcher, you didn’t think to tell me about it, so I had to investigate everything _on my own_.”

“Bells—”

“ _Don’t call me that, Charlie._ ”

“Alright then, _Bella_ ,” Charlie says, taking a step back, hands raised. “I know your previous school and that Mr. Giles taught you some things that you strongly believe. Because of that, you have some hero complex to save the world from the bad guys and such. But look, you’re _seventeen_. _Seventeen_ , okay? And right now, your job is to be a _normal_ teenage girl, not a murder investigator. You’re probably worried about these girls, like we all are, but let the adults take care of the _real-life monsters_ , okay?” He grins weakly and claps her on the shoulder.

Bell stares at him, face unreadable, then spins on her heel and storms into the house.

“Well, you can very well try to talk with her if you think it’s so easy,” Charlie tells the bag of salt, rubbing his mustache pensively.

* * *

Bella’s personal investigation into the whereabouts of the girls’ disappearance in Seattle on Halloween goes about as well as her confrontation with Charlie. Giles, unfortunately, is on holiday per his voicemail and is not answering her messages. So, she continues her investigation alone, aside from unsolicited input from her human friends, like a flock of magpies dedicated to bringing her shiny things, no matter how well-received.

As far as they can tell, the teenagers have vanished into thin air, just like Andrea.

“And just like Andrea, Grace and Zoe could be dead by now for all we know,” Eric tells the study group late one afternoon at the Swan’s house, slumped over a history textbook that more than likely hasn’t seen the light of day since September. Midsemester exams have been steadily encroaching on their precious little free time and the dining room’s air is perfumed with _eu de Mountain Dew_ and buttered popcorn. 

“They aren’t dead,” Bella says.

Angie quirks a brow. “What makes you say that?”

Bella shrugs. “More of a hunch, really. Judging by the way Andrea’s body was found, this monster likes to show off what they kill. If new bodies haven’t appeared anywhere, then I think there’s a decent chance they could still be alive.”

“Very Hannibal of the killer,” Jess mutters. She’s filling in a bullet journal with a colorful array of gel pens and has mostly refrained from commenting on anything related to the supernatural since Halloween. (If she thinks that will keep Bella from eventually bugging her about witchcraft, she’s quite wrong.)

“So, what do we do?” asks Tyler. “We’re not waiting until they die, right?”

“ _I’m_ not waiting until they die if I can help it.” Bella stabs her pen into her notes. “But I haven’t figured out what to do just yet and the people in charge of me have been less than helpful about my… _concerns_.” The word sounds snider than she intended.

Angie taps their nails on the table. “Hmmm, but you could talk to the Cullens about it, couldn’t you?”

“I could,” Bella agrees. _But I would prefer not to._ “Though I don’t see them around all that much.” _Intentionally_.

“That’s a shame,” Angie says, exchanging a sidelong glance with Jess.

To Bella’s immense relief, Edward had stopped showing up to AP Biology entirely after his “confessions of a bloodthirsty killer with marriage intentions” and her subsequent “demolishing the closet to avoid said marriage intentions” combination SNAFU in the woods.

(During one of their increasingly regular phone calls, Bella swears to Leah that she can still see echoes of the painfully bright sunspots from Edward’s chest whenever she blinks.

“At least we werewolves don’t sparkle,” Leah points out.)

That being said, she is not yet free of the Cullens, who are officially the Weirdest Vampires Ever, if she’s one to judge. Alice keeps texting her to apologize and repeatedly invites her to hang out so they can talk in person. Because Bella loathes the idea of blocking a key line of supernatural intel, she finally relents on Friday and responds to Alice.

**Bella: what do you want.**

**Alice: Please, Bella, I’m really super sorry about the thing with Edward. let me make it up by having a chat? Or I could ask Carlisle to let you see the cool things we can do???** **🧛** **I want us to be friends!**

**Bella: lets be clear, NONE of you are off my shitlist atm. you all hid the truth from me for MONTHS, and for what? so edward could get in my pants? jfc**

**Alice: I know.**

**Alice: And again, I’m really sorry.**

**Alice: let me try to get off your shitlist in person?**

**Bella: only if you mean via platonic means**

**Alice: a;lkdfksljfksldjf ;alsd**

**Alice: OMG what else did Leah tell you????**

**Alice: wait don’t answer that**

**Alice: okay, look, I get that you want an explanation for everything. I’d want answers, too. I can’t tell you everything, but I can tell you as much as I can if we can talk? I’ll text you our address and everything**

**Bella: k**

* * *

On Saturday, Bella drives up to the Cullens’ house for the first time. Like the Cullens, it defies all conventional vampiric stylization entirely; it is starkly modern in design, with glass walls any sensible vampire would have learned to avoid early on in their immortality and a strange, stacked box-like structure. In sum, it looks like the home a reclusive billionaire of Generation X would own, rather than creatures that skulk in the dark and survive on the local wildlife.

Alice offered to give her a ride, but Bella flatly refused. It was bad enough to go to a remote location with a family of self-confessed vampires and without losing a quick means of getaway. Reflexively, she checks her stake and emergency holy water spray in her pockets. Just in case. 

She doesn’t even have to figure out which part of the strange house design has the doorbell because Alice swings the door open as she walks up the steps. The vampire has the decency to look suitably apologetic, but can’t hide her characteristic eagerness and bounce in her steps.

“I’m so glad you’re here! I was really hoping you wouldn’t ghost on me or something even though I’d totally deserve it for everything,” she chatters, leading Bella by the elbow through the hallway. The scratchy, tinny sound of a gramophone playing classical music fills the air. It oddly helps Bella relax more than it probably should, given the circumstances. However, old-timey music suits what she knows of vampires far more than this strange, van der Rohe-esque house and its vampires who sparkle in the sunlight and claim mates like they’re an alpha hero from one of Jessica’s favorite risqué romance novels.

She smells garlic and onion cooking in butter even before Alice leads her into the open-plan kitchen and dining room. In that case, another for Bella’s running list of things these vampires are weirdly immune to. Her stomach growls.

Alice flashes her a grin. “I also hoped you’d like some lunch. Homemade pasta, alright?”

_Vampires who can cook._ Not even Bella really knows how to cook, thanks to years of boarding school with a well-run cafeteria, though she prides herself in at least knowing how to make a proper cup of tea.

A memory resurfaces from the _before_ , one that’s faded enough to be fuzzy around the edges: Charlie, cleaning up the remains of a spaghetti sauce explosion in the microwave with a towel and absently humming “Rebel Rebel” by David Bowie.

He had beamed at Bella when she brought him a clean rag. _“What a good girl,”_ he’d said. “ _Now, should we go get cheeseburgers or pizza?”_

The memory makes Bella smile a little, until she realizes Alice thinks she’s smiling at _her_. Bella forces a poker face instead of scowling.

“Sure. I mean, pasta’s fine.”

Thankfully, there’s no need to introduce Bella to all of the Cullens again. Emmett and Rosalie look strangely domestic in matching black aprons, chopping vegetables and whispering to each other. Jasper sips a glass of bourbon at the kitchen’s bar top while Carlisle sets the dining table with a single set of dinnerware and five wine glasses. Edward is conspicuously absent, and in his place—

“Oh _hello_ , Bella,” says the vampire whisking a pot of cream-colored sauce. “I’m Esme, Carlisle’s wife.”

At first glance, with her gently beautiful features and loosely curled, caramel-colored hair and floral apron protecting her ruffled blouse, she looks _soft_. Soft, as in, the sort of person who offers everyone hugs and who never forgets to bring snacks to the local sewing circle.

Then she meets Bella’s eyes and all warm and cozy ideations about Esme Cullen are instantly killed. Her laugh-lined smile might be cordial, but her intense, puma-like gaze makes Bella’s flight or fight response itch. Bella’s hands curl into fists at her sides.

Before it can turn into a staring contest, Alice interrupts them with a “Coffee, tea, or water, Bella?”

“Um, coffee, I guess?”

The coffee is blessedly strong and distracts her from the watchful eyes of the Cullens. Alice makes small talk about school while the meal finishes cooking, with Bella responding as monosyllabically as possible because gods, she did _not_ come here to talk about the latest math exam.

Lunch is admittedly one of the best and most uncomfortable meals she’s ever had. The Cullens, except for Jasper and his glass of bourbon, drink a richly colored wine that looks incriminatingly like blood, but for the fact that Bella had seen it uncorked and poured from the bottle itself.

An uneasy silence falls while Bella digs into fettuccine alfredo and salad, broken only by the _tink_ of her silverware against the plate.

“How is the fettuccine, Bella?” asks Esme, her eyes still unsettling but thankfully now more in the same way all of the Cullens’ unnatural eyes look unsettling and not so much in the, _“I’ll get you, my pretty”_ manner of earlier.

“It’s good, thanks,” says Bella. “Though you didn’t have to cook for me and all that.”

Esme has a musical laugh. “Nonsense! Any _friend_ of Alice’s is a friend of ours, too.”

“Uh-huh.” Bella raises her eyebrows at Alice, who smiles encouragingly over her glass of wine.

Carlisle clears his throat. “Ah, so, Bella, we invited you here because we figured you might have some questions about the nature of vampires and our mates after the, _ah,_ events concerning my son last week.”

“That’s certainly one way of phrasing it,” Rosalie mutters with an eye-roll.

Bella stabs her fork into a cherry tomato and rolls it in dressing. “Sure, alright, I’ll bite, pun intended. What the actual godscursed _fuck_ is a mating bond?”

Carlisle’s eyes widen at her language, not that Bella really gives that much of a shit about being polite. Emmett and Rosalie hide their laugher in their drinks.

“Well, Bella, why don’t you tell us what you _do_ understand about mating bonds and we’ll try to clarify anything you don’t?” His smile is polite to the point of looking pained.

Bella steels herself with another sip of her coffee. “Obviously I know essentially nothing about them, but after pondering it this past week, I could only conclude that it must have something to do with your lot reproduces?”

_CLONG!_

The sound is the discordance of a half-dozen piano keys slammed at the same time in a distant room, and Bella jumps despite herself.

Esme sighs and gets up from her chair. “That’ll be Ed. I’ll go—”

“No need,” says Alice. “He says he’s leaving.” There’s an awkward silence while a car engine revs and screeches down the driveway.

“Excuse me for being human,” says Bella, “But was _Edward_ listening to us all this time?”

“It’s rather hard for him to avoid doing so.” Carlisle looks apologetic, at least.

“He _is_ a mind reader,” Rosalie points out, causing Bella’s increasing annoyance about the one person she didn’t want to see today listening to their conversation to skid to a screeching stop.

“I’m sorry, he’s a _WHAT_.”

Alice pats Bella gently on the arm and she flinches. “Don’t worry, Bella! He says he can’t read your mind in particular.”

Bella sputters, thinking back to everything that’s happened over the past two months. Bile hits the back of her throat. “I’m—excuse the fuck— _that absolute boggin_ —that doesn’t make it better!”

“I’m sure this is all a bit of a shock for you,” says Carlisle soothingly. “But surely we can discuss it and get this matter settled once and for all?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Bella slumps in her chair and closes her eyes, resisting the urge to scream. Screaming at a house full of vampires whilst outnumbered and her only supernatural allies are several miles away sounds like a very bad plan. She mentally counts backward from ten in Sumerian, breathing as slowly as possible.

“Okay,” she grits out when she feels reasonably capable of controlling her rage. “You were explaining vampiric mating bonds. Edward seems to think I’m his mate and destined to become his vampire wife forever or something. Hence, my assumptions about reproduction. Except, the thing is, for several reasons, your son is _definitely_ not my type.” _My type being girls with freckles on their shoulders who look amazing in every variant of flannel._

“Might I ask why?” Esme’s tone has just enough of an edge to it that it makes Bella’s hackles rise.

“ _Because,_ Mrs. Cullen, no men will _ever_ be my type.” _At last_ , something in Esme’s face gentles while she stares at Bella, as if the penny finally dropped. Bella continues, “And even if they were, they would not be the sort who are _more than six times_ my age and who require me to change myself to be with them.”

Carlisle looks thoughtful. “That’s a fair concern. Truth be told, I hadn’t quite thought about the potential negatives of a match between a vampire and a human. For one, age gaps tend to not matter much for us after a few decades of immortality. When they discover the truth about us, many humans will jump at the chance to live forever, which is why we have to move as much as we do.”

Bella taps her fingers against the table. “Frankly, I just want Edward to move on from this as soon as possible and preferably leave me the fuck alone.”

“Ah, that might be easier said than done,” Carlisle says quietly, “especially when taking into account—”

A loud rumble of thunder drowns out the remainder of his words. It’s like a signal for the rest of them, as they begin clearing the table.

Bella remains seated, watching them in confusion. “Excuse me,” she calls to Carlisle. “Especially when taking into account _what?”_

“Later, Bella,” Alice says. “We have to take advantage of the storm while it lasts.”

None of this makes any sense at all and Bella internally screams in frustration.

* * *

As the Cullens haven’t yet tried to drain her of her blood and actually fed her a rather delicious plate of pasta, Bella grudgingly takes Rosalie’s offer to carpool in Emmett’s jeep to a nearby field so they can show off some of their vampire superpowers for her.

“I’m gonna be blunt here,” Rosalie tells her on the way over as Bella holds on for dear life while the jeep rumbles through mud and over branches downed by the storm, “but that ugly-colored Chevy of yours looks like it’s escaped the junkyard one too many times, let alone capable of handling four-wheel driving.”

“I’ll take that under consideration,” Bella blithely replies.

Oddly enough, the Cullens decided it was worth wasting some of the precious storm’s presence in the Olympic to change into matching striped white and navy sports outfits. Bella wonders if Esme embroidered their surnames on the uniforms herself, judging by the back of Rosalie’s as the vampire skillfully reapplies her lipstick via her reflection in the windows. _How many of their vampiric powers are truly the result of vampirism, rather than the result of decades of practice?_

They stop in a well-manicured field surrounded by evergreens and a wall of rock with a waterfall steeply pouring into a streambed below, the slate-gray sky flickering with lightning and winds sweeping in with rain. Bella shivers in her jacket, relieved she’d thought to bring it for more than carrying Slayer supplies. (Alice had generously supplied her with a warm scarf made of genuine _vicuna wool_ , of all things. It probably cost more than Bella’s truck.)

In the center of the field, a rough diamond has been cut and painted into the dirt. Emmett turns his hat backward and tosses a ball in the air with a leather glove, which rouses Bella from her mire of thoughts about arming everyone in Forks with tinfoil hats, lightning strike risks aside. Everything knits together from her rare American media consumption as…

“Baseball. This is baseball.”

“You’re so funny, Bella!” Alice tells her. “You couldn’t tell by the uniforms?”

Bella shakes her head and resists the urge to groan, thinking back to the last time Renee had rambled on and on about Phil without letting Bella get a word in edgewise. “I think my sexuality should suffice as an obvious explanation.”

MMA aside, sports have always been a foreign language Bella feels are best spoken by those who don’t have to worry about fighting the forces of darkness. Then again, no one at the Academy had thought to mention that some creatures of darkness enjoy playing a match or two because if they had, a wise Watcher might have suggested it as an ideal time for Slayers to attack. (Not that Bella has any plans of doing so to these vampires who defy all definitions of what vampires _should_ be, but if she stumbles across a random vampire playing golf, well, _stakers takers_.)

The Cullens start playing, judging by the thunderous _crack_ of Rosalie’s metal bat against the ball pitched by Alice, but they move so fast that their actions look like a confusing blur to Bella, even if she had any understanding of gameplay. What she does grasp, however, is Jasper taking off after the baseball into the woods at an absurdly fast speed. It’s one thing for the Academy to teach her that vampires can exceed speeds of 100 km/h and another thing entirely to watch it in real life.

“I think that technically counts as a home run,” Bella says to Esme in the catcher’s position, hating that she even knows the term.

“Hmm, you’ll see,” she responds, grinning.

There’s a vaguely Rosalie-shaped blur rounding the bases and as soon as she leaves the last base, the baseball drops from the air into Esme’s waiting palms, as if rehearsed.

“Out,” Esme tells Rosalie, who shoots her a dirty look.

Carlisle steps up to bat, looking the most comfortable out of everyone in his baseball uniform. _Perhaps he even played for a few professional teams before he decided on hospital work_ , Bella muses.

They play a few more rounds that Bella can barely follow, except for observing how fast they move and the frightening accuracy with which they can throw and catch objects. If they can toss supernatural people around as easily, Bella and the Quileute may have quite the problem on their hands.

Bella is mentally rehearsing how to best phrase to Leah, “Today I went with the vampires to a secondary location so they could play baseball with their superpowers” when Alice stumbles and yells, “ _STOP!_ ”

They regroup around her in a matter of seconds, but wait for Bella to sprint over before Carlisle gives the go-ahead for Alice to speak.

“I see vampires,” she says, staring off somewhere in the distance. “Three of them. They were hunting on a route away from the Olympic, but then they heard us playing.”

“Wait, you’re a Seer?” Bella interrupts. “Since when?” It’s not unheard of for Slayers and sometimes even vampires to have precognition like the infamous Drusilla, but this is the first Alice thought to reference it around her. Mind reading, precognition, super speed, (presumably) super strength, super reflexes, blindingly sparkly skin, superior makeup applying skills… If one could ignore the damage to the local wildlife, the Cullens appear to have more traits shared with the X-Men than the undead.

“This is perhaps not the best time to ask questions about what vampires can do,” Alice tells her, gaze still unfocused. “They are coming.”

“Okay, but they’re just three vampires, so we can handle them, yeah?”

Carlisle shakes his head. “I can smell them. These are the vampires who are more like the ones in your classic human tales. If they see you with us, they’ll want to ensure that you’re eaten.”

Esme nods, looking grim.

“ _Okaaaaaay,_ ” Bella says, drawing out the word. “But why can’t we just kill them, then?”

Emmett bursts out laughing. “Oh, I like her, Carlisle. Fuck what Edward wants; can we keep her for fun?”

The look Carlisle shoots him is severe. “We are _not_ killing any vampires.”

“I should hope not,” says a smooth, French-accented voice behind him. “We come in peace.”

The Cullens turn as one towards the speaker. Alice and Esme move further in front of Bella, as if to shield her. The absurdity of it all hits Bella: Vampires protecting an armed vampire slayer from other vampires. She bites her lip to keep from snickering.

Between the Cullens, she spies the trio of vampires at last: The speaker is a handsome man with long dreads and dark skin. He stands in front of two much paler vampires, a blond man with his hair tucked into a bun and a woman with curly red hair and wearing what looks like a white fur cloak of all things. Perhaps she took it from an animal she hunted, but all of them have the same, dark blood-colored eyes.

The standoff between the Cullens and the newcomers feels longer to Bella than it probably is. She slowly begins to reach into her pockets for her stake and holy water. Let others call her overly paranoid if they’d like, but at least she’s always _prepared_.

Carlisle takes it upon himself to introduce them. “Pleased to meet you. I’m doctor Carlisle Cullen and this my coven,” he adds, gesturing to everyone behind them.

“I am Laurent,” says the vampire, tossing a baseball to Carlisle. “My fellow nomads behind me: James and Victoria. Apologies for interrupting your game. We see so few of our kind on the road and thought it best to be on good terms with potential allies. We would like to play.”

The smile on Carlisle’s face seems fixed to the point of causing him pain. If vampires can even have pain from over-extended muscles, that is. “Ah, well, we were just preparing to leave. The storm is moving on soon and we’re quite serious about following the rules here. Surely you can understand.”

Laurent exchanges a glance with James. “Oh, sure. Although it is a shame, Doctor Cullen. We were so hoping you might be willing to share. Strange and sparse, the hunting has been of late. You haven’t heard reports of the humans reintroducing wolves in this area, have you?” He extends his arm and points directly at Bella. “But what a tasty morsel you have with you, and still warm.”

Bella grips the stake in her hand and squares her jaw.

“She’s not for consumption,” Carlisle tells them, directly blocking their line of sight to Bella.

“Damned right I’m not!” Bella calls, ignoring Alice’s frantic gestures to stay quiet. Not only is she not going to let a pack of vampires size her up like a convenient juice box, but also she can speak up for herself, _thank you very much._

James looks like he would pounce on her, but for Laurent spreading his arms wide in front of his companions. “Well, well, well, Doctor Cullen. Are all the humans in your territory so comfortable around your coven, or is it just this mouthy one?”

“She’s our son’s mate,” Carlisle answers.

“Am n—” Bella starts before Alice steps on her foot. _Fuck_ , for such a tiny person, her stomps feel much heavier. “ _Am. I am,”_ she finishes haltingly. Although she’ll deny it to Edward’s face point-blank, she’s willing to lie for the vampires who fed her good pasta, apparently.

“A human and a vampire?” James’s eyes are wide in disbelief.

“It’s happened before, James,” Victoria tells him. “Not that the Volturi usually allows the humans to remain human for long. Come along, my darling. We still have double what we’d get from her further east, and with much less of the trouble we’d get from _them_.” Her eyes flash at the Cullens mockingly.

James wraps an arm around her waist, mollified. “They _are_ getting too noisy, aren’t they, Tori? The younger meals are only fun until they aren’t.”

“Good day to you, vampires and human,” Laurent says, inclining his head at Carlisle.

The vampires head east, disappearing from view even before Bella can process what they’ve said.

Around normal people, this would be the time to take a deep breath in relief. However, because Bella is still surrounded by vampires, no one is breathing and all of them wear the same stony expression.

“I know I said what I said because you wanted me to, but I’m really not his mate,” she blurts out. “Make sure he gets the picture.”

“No worries, Bella.” Alice’s smile looks thin. “I’ll pass the message along.”

The drive home in Bella’s truck passes with Bella deep in thought, thinking about James and Victoria. No matter what she asked Carlisle or Alice in their car back to the Cullen’s house, neither would confirm for her that the vampire trio had all but confessed to having the missing girls in their possession.

No matter. Even if the Cullens refused to clarify that for her, they certainly confirmed the vampires were of the sort who eat humans aka fair game for vampire slaying.

**i have a hit** , she texts Leah as well as the group chat. **meet me at mine in fifteen if you’re in. we’ll also need bait…**

* * *

_“Hey, Giles, it’s me again. I know you’re still on holiday, but, uh, I saw the real deal today. There are at least three honest-to-gods vampires in Seattle and they’re drinking the blood of girls. Charlie doesn’t believe me and thinks it’s a serial killer but don’t worry, I’m doing what a Slayer should do even if he won’t step up as my Watcher. Listen: My classmates and I have put together a plan and if all goes well, it should be a piece of cake to send these leeches to Hell. Have a good holiday and I’ll hear from you when I hear from you, I guess.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Whaddup, here's a new chapter! I've been on the road a lot since posting chapter 6 and am still working in the current healthcare crisis but hey, still alive and kicking! (Unlike certain vampires.)  
> \- Many thanks to the twilight critical/twilight renaissance-renesmee-resumeme folks on tumblr for their excellent commentary, edits, and gifs and even more excellent memes as they have made fabulous writing inspo whenever I've felt stuck. Please check out their fics as well!  
> \- Slight editing update concerning the other chapters: To make my life easier, I decided to make all of the recent events take place in a much more pleasant version of 2020, rather than trying to tackle both 2019 and 2020 in my fic. Ugh. Since it's been a while, this chapter takes place approximately the first week or so of November 2020.  
> \- I must confess that I no longer think this fic is gonna be quick-and-easy novella length in the slightest and I *cri*. (Sorry to the readers of Battlesong as well!)  
> \- Just a friendly note that I indeed have a long-ass playlist for this fic and am still adding song to it, so feel free to give it a listen. [[Spotify Link]](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6ZponzmII7LYTOOZLHwtYg?si=uKGWzKlDQL2FNx1pkZt7Mw)


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